Hunted
by poxelda
Summary: Jack and Mac struggle to survive after they are shot out of the sky. warning for violence
1. Chapter 1

"There's the plane," Mac said from the back seat of the Blackhawk. Jack in the copilot's seat turned his binoculars in the direction Mac had pointed. Sure enough, the small Cessna's silver hide showed in patches beneath the trees of the thick forest. Now he could see it; Jack could study the signs of the ailing planes crashing path. Jack looked over at the pilot.

"I have a clearing two kliks…"The rest of the pilot's words vanished in an explosion and instant twirling fast descent into the forest. Before Jack could sputter out a question there was a flash then the tail rotor was crumbling and falling. Jack had time to glance back and share a wide-eyed panic look with Mac before they hit the canopy.

Jack moaned slowly opening his eyes. It took him a second to realize he was still alive and another to know he was dangling upside down. Blood dripped from his forehead, and his chest hurt like hell, but he didn't see any bones sticking out, that was something.

"Jack!" Mac screamed. Jack's heart leaped at the panic in his partner's voice. He glanced back to see the other half of the helicopter crushed. The pilot was apparently dead, and Mac's seat flattened into a pile of metal and broken glass.

"Mac!" Jack said fumbling for his seatbelt. A thump out his window startled him. He looked down, or up for the rest of the world, and saw Mac pounding on his window. Mac grinned when he saw Jack look at him.

"I'll get you out in a minute!" The clear shell muffled Mac's shout. Mac ducked away. Jack blinked taking time to process where they were. They had hit an ancient oak tree at the junction of two branches as big as Jack's waist. Jack gulped as he looked down at a long fall to smaller trees, maples Jack absently noted. He closed his eyes thinking the world was rocking when he realized the only thing rocking was the helicopter. Jack felt his heart start to pound. Without the tail, the aircraft was a ball. The landing had smashed on the pilot's side making it virtually a see-saw. Looking at the drop, Jack swallowed bile.

"Mac!" Jack yelled unable to hide the fear in his voice. He heard something mechanical and felt everything tip back. "MAC!" There was a loud scream, and the helicopter groaned and slowly rolled Jack-side up. Jack blinked in surprise then Mac opened the door and cut Jack's belt pulling the man ungracefully from the cockpit. Jack felt something loop around his chest. A deafening whine ground into a painful screech.

"Down," Mac yelled grabbing Jack and bending him putting his body on top of the older man. Jack closed his eyes for a second reassured by the presence of his partner then came an explosion that rocked the tree. The helicopter fell away taking half the tree with it. The air stank of burned fuel, woodsmoke and filled with black smoke. Jack choked blinded. Before he could sputter out anything, there was an earthshaking crack, and the tree was falling. Jack looked up at Mac's blue shirt as he felt himself fall backward. Jack closed his eyes his stomach almost emptying as the tree crashed through the smaller hedge of trees below it then flopped onto the ground. Jack had a sense of tipping upside down then falling, flipping in midair. Jack grunted as he was pulled up a foot from the ground by something tight around his chest. Jack dangled by his armpits sucking in air again taking a second to realize he was alive. Jack grinned.

"Mac! That was amazing!" He got no answer. Jack wiped blood out of his eyes and frowned. He kicked his feet slowly pivoting eyes darting searching for his friend. "Mac? MAC!" The fear in his voice was ramping up in volume.

"Just give me a second." Mac softly groaned. Jack followed the voice to a thicket of underbrush where he could see Mac slowly picking himself up off the ground. Jack frowned as Mac staggered then holding his side limped over to Jack. Mac leaned against Jack's side for a second. Jack did not like how pale the kid was. Mac hissed as he reached up and cut Jack free. Jack yelped and fell his legs swinging out and clipping Mac causing them to tumble to the ground in a jumble of limbs. They both sat there breathing a second. Jack laughed and held out his fist. Mac managed a watery smile and bumped it with his. Mac was the first one upright and helped Jack pulling him upright to sitting. Jack went to stand. Mac held him down and peered at the blood oozing from Jack's scalp. The blonde frowned.

"That's quite a cut, how bad?" Mac asked studying Jack closely. Jack sighed.

"It hurts, won't lie. But there's no dizziness or anything." Mac leaned back and let out a deep breath. He winced in pain and staggered a step back. Jack was up to his feet in an instant. Mac reached out a hand and steadied himself holding onto Jack's shoulder taking slow deep breaths. "What about you?" Jack asked. Mac opened his eyes and smiled. Jack scanned him. Mac held his middle, hopefully only a few ribs. His eyes were equal and not dilated so probably no concussion. Jack looked down, and his heart sank. Mac's left pant leg was soaked through with blood worse than that was a thick fold of metal that stuck out of his thigh. Before Mac could choke out a word, Jack pushed Mac to the ground holding on to ease the fall. Mac grunted his face turning another few shades of white.

"Sorry, bud," Jack said as he bent over Mac's leg. Jack winced in sympathy. The metal had impaled Mac's leg through and through. Jack glanced at Mac seeing him lose focus and swallow a few times. "So how the hell did you get us out of that? How did you not get squished?" Jack asked as he pulled Mac's swiss army knife out of his pocket and used it to cut Mac's pant leg. Mac focused on him blinking.

"I jumped out." He murmured licking his dry lips. Jack froze staring at him.

"You what?" Mac shrugged, grimaced, then held onto his side forcing himself to breathe through the pain. "How far did you fall?"

"Not sure didn't have time to think about it."

"I can see that. Ok, then what?" Jack gently pulled the last bits of Mac's pants from the swollen bloody site.

"I...I made a rope and...and used it to make the rotor into a winch." Mac's eyes kept fluttering. Jack shook him.

"Uh-uh no passing out allowed." Mac gave him the finger. Jack grinned. His amusement vanished when he saw the size of the wound. He glanced at the woods surrounding him. Any field kit or supplies had gone up in flames. The tree cover was too thick to expect anyone to see them, and that was if by miracle anyone was looking for them. On books, the plane they had been sent to find was a CIA currier flight. It had been missing for three days so any intelligence would already be out of date and scrubbed. All of the official intelligence anyway, Phoenix had its asset on the plane who had inside information about a CIA conspiracy with a new terror group. Matty had assumed the CIA had destroyed the aircraft but wanted Mac and Jack to bring back whatever information they found at the crash site.

It had taken them three days of low flights over the vast Appalachian forest before they spotted it, ten minutes later they were blown out of the sky. Not good, Jack frowned. He looked back at Mac whose eyes had slipped closed. Jack bit his lip thinking of his best options. His ingrained instinct was to leave the metal in and wait, but he knew someone would be wondering about the chopper they shot down and come to look. Jack pulled Mac up and cut off his button up leaving Mac with a white sleeveless undershirt. Mac moaned and opened his eyes.

"What're ya doin'?" He mumbled. Jack frowned.

"I have to make a bandage."

"Gonna get cold." Jack huffed. In the early afternoon, it was a pleasant 75 degrees, on top of the mountains that would drop dramatically at night; Mac was already shivering.

"I know. I'm sorry brother." Mac looked at him puzzled. Jack offered an apologetic smile grabbed the metal and yanked it out with one motion. Mac screamed his back arching. He sank back gasping in air breaking out in beads of sweat. Jack didn't think anyone could be as pale who wasn't on a morgue table. Jack shoved aside the morbid thought and focused on tying up Mac's wound. He tied it as tight as he could without cutting off circulation. Mac blinked his eyes and looked at Jack.

"Ow." He said ridiculously calm.

"Yeah, I'm not sure I will get the wound to stop bleeding without cauterizing it." Mac blinked then licked his dry lips.

"Spiderwebs."

"What?"

"Find...some webs...helps to clot." Jack glanced around them. Well, he was in the right place to find them.

"Ok, first we gotta get outa here." Mac nodded and slowly pushed himself to his feet, with Jack's support they were able to move into deeper woods away from the crash. Jack wasn't sure how long they staggered, but he could feel Mac's weight lean on him more and more as they traveled. The kid's head was bowed, and Jack could tell Mac focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

Finally, Jack found an excellent place to make a shelter as far away from the chopper as he thought Mac would be able to go. Three enormous boulders leaned against a small outcropping leaving a little crevice between them. Jack scraped away the leaves and laid Mac down putting his leg up on a log. Mac's eyes fluttered open then shut; he was out. Using the saw on Mac's knife, Jack cut down some pine fronds and quickly wove a cover that would hopefully keep the sun off Mac and camouflage him from searchers.

"I'll be back." Jack murmured. Mac didn't respond. Jack brushed the kid's bangs back wincing at how cold and clammy the kid was. Jack stood up and sprinted away, his survival training kicking into full gear. He followed a herd of deer until they led him to a small stream. Jack knelt down and studied the water. He was relieved to see life in the bottom. It would still need purifying, but at least it wasn't stagnant or had too many life-threatening chemicals if any.

Jack found a small log and worked frantically digging out the middle, so he was left with a hollow container the size of a two-liter bottle of soda. He rinsed it out and filled it with water. Always his eyes raked the environment around him looking for movement, ears hyperaware for any sound that didn't belong. Other than the deer silently walking away, there was none. Jack took a relieved breath and continued his foraging. He found a knot of black raspberry vines growing across a small sunny area. He frowned until he realized that he had absently stuffed a long piece of Mac's shirt in his back pocket.

"Yay me." Jack grinned. He plucked as many as he could folding them in the cloth. Jack had to go on for another hour before he found a bush covered with thick spider's nests. Jack grimaced praying the spiders really were more scared of him than he was of them, and if not, they at least weren't poisonous. Jack used a stick and twirled it around the nest shaking off as many moving dots as he could. When he had a ball the size of a baseball, he shook it and started sprinting back toward Mac.

Jack panted and skidded to a stop his sweat chilling him. He was relieved and worried to find Mac precisely as he'd left. The kid hadn't moved a muscle. His bandaged leg was soaked through again bleeding. Jack looked at the sky. The sun was starting to fall. Jack thought about where they'd been over the mountain before they went down. They probably landed on the eastern lee so that night would come quicker. Jack unbound Mac's leg and shaking spiders loose spread the webbing across both sides of the wound as much as he could. Jack shook his head; the webs seemed to melt into the blood.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Jack muttered.

"Pr'bly not." Jack jumped and smiled up at Mac who calmly watched him.

"Glad you woke up after laying around all afternoon while I hiked all over hell and gone." Mac smiled having trouble keeping his eyes open.

"It's your turn," Mac grunted automatically trying to move his leg away as Jack rewrapped it.

"I suppose," Jack said through gritted teeth. He looked at Mac. The younger man's eyes were at half mast. Jack glanced up at the tiny light between the lace of leaves; it would be dark in a few minutes. He wouldn't be able to light a fire at night, it would be a beacon for any pursuers, and even with his natural compass Jack could easily get lost while trying to gather the needed wood. Jack shrugged giving up the argument to himself. He sniffed the water and took a tentative sip.

Jack sighed in relief. It tasted clean and fresh. He shifted Mac pulling him deeper into the makeshift shelter and leaned him against Jack's chest. Mac mumbled something. Jack leaned around him.

"C'mon, bud, you need to drink and eat." Mac opened his eyes and frowned at Jack.

"Eat?"

"What you didn't see the McDonald's on your way down?" Mac chuckled then held his side. Jack's face grew serious. "You ok?" Mac scoffed at him.

"I'm fine...tired."

"Well here, take this then you can sleep." Mac drank half the water refusing anymore so Jack could have the other half. They split the berries as full dark fell. Jack pulled Mac closer and put his arm around the kid trying to keep them both warm. He closed his eyes. The forest was too dark to see anything in so he relied on sound.

He heard the lonely call of owls and barks of foxes and coyotes. He listened to the faint rustling of land creatures hopefully raccoons, possums or other non-mountain lion or bear. Jack dozed off. In the middle of the night, a new sound snapped his eyes open. The sound of branches snapping and steps in leaves. The voices seemed far away but on a mountain this late, it was hard to tell. Jack pulled Mac closer mentally calculating the advantages and disadvantages of their location if it came to fighting. Jack scowled realizing the steps were coming towards them.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack pulled his arm free from Mac startling the younger man awake. Jack covered his mouth and whispered in the kid's ear.

"Somebody's coming." Mac nodded. Jack let go and pulled out his Baretta. He was painfully aware he only had 15 rounds. He duck walked to the edge of the boulder and peeped around the stone. Jack frowned. Through the trees, he could see two flickering lights small in the distance. The crashing footsteps were much closer.

"I think those are lanterns," Mac whispered at his elbow. Jack jumped and bit his mouth from squawking in surprise. He turned to glare at Mac, but it was too dark. If it weren't for Mac's hand on his shoulder, Jack wouldn't know Mac was there. They heard a scream.

"Son of a…"

"We have to help him," Mac whispered as he moved to go around the stone. Jack gritted his teeth grabbed Mac by the waist and pulled him back. Mac landed on his back with a whoof. Jack put a hand on his chest and leaned over him holding him down.

"Jack, dammit…" Mac hissed as he tried to push his partner off of him.

"Mac, calm down," Jack whispered. Mac stilled.

"We have to help him," Mac growled. Jack gritted his teeth.

"We can't." He said. He could feel waves of rage roll off Mac. Jack waited then Mac nodded. Jack rolled off him. Jack kept a hand on Mac's arm making sure the kid didn't slip away from him. Jack hated it, but there were too many variables how many guns? How many pursuers? Above all, the terrain was unknown, and they couldn't see an inch in front of their faces. Jack could feel the muscles in Mac's arm bunch, and his body almost vibrated with the need to do something. Jack moved closer knowing it would not take much to send his partner barrelling off into the blackness around them.

"There he is!" A gritty male voice yelled. A pair of whoops came then the lamps began to run closer in Mac and Jack's location. The closer crashing steps faltered. Backlit by the faint light of the lanterns, Jack saw Mac was right. It was a man. Jack felt bile run up his throat and held onto Mac harder. The man was missing both of his arms. He screamed and fell.

Mac dove forward his heart banging. Jack grabbed him across the chest holding him still. Mac writhed and tried to wiggle loose. He wheezed in pain, his breath stolen by the throbbing from his ribs. Jack dragged him behind the boulders.

"Shhh," Jack whispered in Mac's ear. He could feel a growl echo from Mac's chest.

"No, no more please!" The voice was barely human. It was garbled and moist, and less than twenty feet on the other side of the boulders. Jack moved his arms holding Mac in more of a hug. He'd seen enough human hunts to know they never ended with smiles and candy canes. The flickering lanterns made the dark forest around them glow and sway like demons from hell dancing around the trees. The screams were some of the worst Jack had ever heard.

Jack counted four different voices three male and one female. They didn't talk only whooped and laughed. Jack frowned. The woman and one of the man sounded young. Mac started squirming. Jack focused on him.

"Shhhh. We can't help, I'm sorry." Jack said it over and over leaning his face into Mac's sweaty neck his own eyes closed. The screams reached a crescendo with the solid thud of blows then came the distinctive slap of large blades into flesh. The cries broke down to gurgling that ended with a final wet wheeze. Mac slumped in Jack's arms breathing hard and shaking. Jack wished he had the kid's leather jacket or his own. Jack pulled Mac closer for heat. Mac's head leaned down, and he sagged back. Jack didn't know if he passed out or was curling into his head to avoid the horror unfolding on the other side of their shelter.

Jack forced himself to take easy breaths even as the stink of iron grew. The murderers spoke to each other in a language Jack had never heard before. Jack winced at the knuckle cracking of bones snapped like wishbones and the meaty squish of flesh sliced by large knives, probably machetes. Jack got a whiff of bowel. Mac went limp. Jack prayed the kid was unconscious. Jack began to count Mac's breaths forcing himself to focus on something to keep himself calm.

Jack guessed it took three hours before the group stepped away and the light of the lanterns faded. Jack leaned his head back taking silent deep breaths. Even after the lights were gone and the forest was wrapped in absolute darkness again it remained unnaturally quiet as if all life was hiding by the brutality of the death.

Mac jerked and pulled free from Jack. Jack let him go feeling exhausted and drained. He heard Mac shuffle through the fallen leaves then puke gasping in pain between spasms. Jack curled his knees to his chest and wiped his damp cheeks with his palms. After Mac finished, he scooted back to Jack's side. He leaned against the boulder his elbow touching Jack's.

"We should have helped him," Mac said his voice full of barely suppressed rage. Jack sighed but didn't answer. What could he say?

"Try to sleep," Jack said after a long uncomfortable silence hung between them; his voice was flat. He felt Mac snug in closer, and yet the kid's stiffness made Jack feel farther away from him than he ever did.

Mac woke up shivering at first light. He tried to ease from Jack's side without waking the older man. Jack, however, snapped awake bringing up his Baretta eyes scanning the environment. The thick forest was alive with birds yammering around them. A pewter-colored sky painted the solid wall of trees and underbrush into shades of grey and green.

"Morning." Mac offered. Even in the noisy morning forest, his voice sounded muted. He pushed off the boulder to his feet. Mac rubbed his hands up and down fast trying to get some heat flowing. Jack studied him. Mac looked away stretching. Mac grimaced his first few steps. After that, they eased into a stiff limp. Jack was happy to see no fresh blood oozing from the wound. He was not so happy to see Mac avoiding him. Jack stiffly got to his feet. He groaned rubbing his chest and touching his head. The gouge had stopped bleeding and had sprouted into a large lump. He could feel bruising from his seatbelt and overall pain of the crash. The second day was always the worst.

"Morning, how are you doing?" Jack asked. Mac glared at him then stalked around the boulders. Jack rubbed his eyes and fought a yawn. He braced himself for the onslaught of Mac's anger. Jack knew Mac was more angry at himself than Jack but also knew Mac would turn it inward like a spear unless Jack could get him to lash out and focus on something else. He circled the boulder preparing for the grisly sight of a dismembered corpse and froze. Other than splotches of blood in the leaves and a blood trail leading away there was no sign anything had happened.

Mac knelt by the bloody streaks on the ground his eyes far away with a look that Jack knew well.

"Whatcha thinking, Mac?" Mac glanced at him.

"They took everything bones, skin, every ?"

"I don't know, hide evidence?"

"And left the blood trail? Something else is going on."

"Do you think they're the ones who shot us down?"

"I'm not sure. Why would these psychos use lanterns if they had that kind of tech?"

"Not a lot of electricity out here." Mac nodded and stood up. He ran his hand through his hair. The sky was now a rose red.

"We have to find that plane," Mac said urgently.

"How? We don't even know where we are." Mac didn't answer only started limping, following the blood trail. Jack rolled his eyes and huffed. "Mac, c'mon are you going to ignore me all day?" He growled as he fell into step behind his partner who navigated the thick foliage with soft, careful steps.

"I'm not ignoring you," Mac said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, you are."

"How can I be ignoring you if I'm talking to you." Jack stepped ahead quickly and grabbed Mac's arm spinning him around. Mac grunted with pain and shot Jack a full powered glare. "What do you want me to say? We could have helped that man." The forest echoed with Mac's bellow. Jack's face softened, and he stepped back and crossed his arms. He deliberately kept his voice level and calm.

"You know we couldn't." Mac shook his head and snarled at Jack.

"I guess we'll never know now, will we?" Mac stalked off shoving branches away with angry swipes. It caused Jack to follow him at a longer distance or get thwacked in the face by rebounding tree limbs. Jack eased over to the side of Mac's path keeping pace with the furious blonde while maintaining watch around them.

The forest's return to normal told him the killers were probably long gone, but Jack wasn't one for assuming the best of any situation. Well, he amended, any case where they were shot down and forced to witness the butcher of a man.

After an hour of walking, Mac finally stopped and took a deep breath, his eyes closed. The forest still had many dark crevasses that made Jack's skin tingle with unease even the small pools of sun and explosions of thick greenery couldn't calm. Jack waited knowing it had to be Mac's choice to move on from his fury or not. Mac sighed and turned looking over at Jack. Although the delta had moved with the stealth of a jungle cat, Mac always knew where he was.

"I'm sorry Jack. You were right." Mac said his soft voice seemed to echo off the trees close around them. Jack smiled and picked his way to his partner's side. He put an arm on the kid's shoulders.

"It's ok, brother. Last night…" Jack's voice trailed off unable to come up with words to describe the horror and madness they had both witnessed. Mac looked down at the ground and moved leaves with the toe of his boot.

"I know." Mac wiped his sweaty forehead. He looked up at the tops of the trees and closed his eyes. Jack held off asking him what he was doing when he saw Mac mouthing technical words and formulas to himself. Mac opened his eyes.

"Which way is East?" Mac asked. Jack smiled. As smart as the kid was, he never did well at directions. Jack pointed to their left. Mac looked up at the tips of the trees again and his brow furrowed with his mental concentration. He nodded at Jack. "This way." Mac turned and led them south-east.

"Why are we going this way, I thought we were going to follow the blood trail?" Mac nodded and pushed his bangs back.

"I figured out a way of doing some rough triangulation to estimate the plane's location. We can use the radio to call for help."

"That's a whole lot better than following a trail leading directly to some weird forest cannibals." Jack agreed. Mac shot him a surprised look.

"Cannibals? We don't know if they're cannibals."

"Why else would they dismember then take away the whole body?" Mac opened his mouth then snapped it shut not having an answer.

"I hope you're wrong," Mac said slowly picking their way through the dense forest.

"You and me both, bud.." They shared an uneasy glance of fear. Suddenly the fresh air was cloying clinging to their bodies somehow thick and greasy. They walked in silence-not a natural condition for Jack.

"What was that language they were speaking?" Mac paused considering this.

"I'm not sure, but it sounded like a form of Cherokee pidgen with bits of English and something else, possibly French."

"Pigpen?" Mac rolled his eyes. 

"Pidgen, it's a mixing of one or more languages when different groups are forced to interact and live together. It usually develops into a creole…" Jack held up a hand forestalling the lecture. Mac shrugged and continued their walking. Jack frowned.

"So where would all these groups come from and how did they end up here? It's not like this is the open Appalachian trail."

"A lot of groups of people vanish into these woods. There a lot of pockets of people that hid in here so they could bootleg their moonshine."

"That was back in the 1920's."

"Their families probably just stayed. I would guess drug smugglers probably do the same thing today."

"It would be a perfect place to grow pot, other than the thick cover...which would keep them away from prying eyes." Mac nodded.

"All kinds of fugitives have hidden in these woods- draft dodgers, hippies, rapists, criminals…"

"Cannibals?" Mac shuddered and shot Jack a glance.

"I hope not."

"Yeah me neither. I'd be the one chopped up first."

"Oh?"

"Well, I'm obviously meatier and tenderized by age and experienced…"

"So you'd be stringy and past your due date?" Mac chuckled even as a finger of ice seemed to slide up his spine at the black humor. He paused scanning the forest around them. Jack froze beside him automatically drawing his Baretta and putting his back to Mac's.

"You feel it too," Jack said in a low pitched whisper.

"Yeah, someone's watching us." They stood eyeing every leave, every flutter; every twig snap hardly breathing with the tension. The birds were silent, too silent.


	3. Chapter 3

"We have to draw them out." Jack murmured. Mac nodded.

"Circle." He whispered back. Mac began to stride through the forest crunching branches and underbrush. Jack gritted his teeth.

"Mac! What are...Dammit." Jack shook his head and stepped into the undergrowth melting into the darker shadows.

Mac's back twitched, he could feel a bullseye glaring on his chest. He deliberately walked and looked straightforward. His leg throbbed as he stepped over and pushed through the thick underbrush. Mac put a hand on his ribs his breath coming in short pants and flares of agony. He was sweaty and felt warm even though the temperature was probably in the high 70s. Mac didn't have to look to know where Jack was. He and his partner were so in sync they instinctively knew what each other would do and how they'd move in any situation-usually.

Mac heard a single snap of a twig. He forced himself to keep walking although he raked the darker hidden places between the forest with his eyes. There was a rustling then two more snaps. Mac's heart thudded like runner's feet in an Olympic race. He kept walking but slowed giving Jack time to circle whoever was out there. Mac gulped. The image of a charging pissed off bear flashed through his mind. Mac couldn't help but look around hoping for human, even a cannibal.

Suddenly thirty feet in front of him the occasional movement became something running full speed through the underbrush. 

"Crap," Mac muttered stepping off to the side crouching behind a thick green bush. The dense scrub parted and Mac stood up in shock. A woman in a torn pilot's uniform staggered in the path where Mac had been standing. She pulled up breathing hard.

"Please! Are you here?" She gasped. Mac stood up and stepped into view. The woman looked at him and began to cry. She bent over her hands resting on her knees. "Oh thank got! Please tell me you know the way out of here!"

"I don't. Who are you?" The woman straightened and sucked in a deep breath. As Mac neared her, he studied her carefully. She looked Latina but spoke without an accent. Her dark hair hung in a long braid down the middle of her back; some hair hung out and small branches and leaves poked into its weave. Her dark eyes were wide and continuously moving.

"I am Laurita Kelson; my plane crashed a few days ago...my copilot and navigator...they're dead, murdered. Please help me get out of here!" Mac casually glanced over to the woods he knew Jack crouched. He itched his chin and shook his head. This was the sign for Jack to hold back and watch. The murderers might be close.

"What happened? " Mac asked. The woman had tears in her clothing, and her face smudged with dirt, but she was otherwise uninjured.

"I...I was knocked out when I woke up we were being hauled through the woods by these dirty inbred...it was awful." The woman threw herself at Mac and began to sob into his chest. Mac cringed and awkwardly patted her on the back. The woman smelled of pine and chemical smoke. Mac glanced at the woods and nodded. In seconds Jack stood behind Laurita holding his Baretta loosely in his fist. Jack shot Mac a grin. Mac shook his head and rolled his eyes. The woman kept sobbing. Mac shot Jack a pleading look. Jack took pity on his friend. He loudly cleared his throat.

Laurita whirled with a choked scream and flew between Mac pushing him forward between Mac and Jack. Mac gasped and held his side as her hand grabbed right over his broken ribs. Jack was there and dragged the woman away from Mac in a second. The woman spit kicked and fought like a wildcat.

"Dammit! Calm down will ya! Geeze lady, Stop already!" He finally got her arms pinned to her side at arm's length. Laurita slowly calmed down. She shot a glance back at Mac bent over holding his flank. Her face blanched as she realized she had hurt the blonde somehow.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry...it's just…" Mac straightened and wiped cold beads of sweat off his forehead.

"Th...that's ok. I'm fine." Jack's face didn't show any of the worries he felt as he eyed Mac. Mac forced himself to breathe naturally around the agony in his side.

"You gonna be calm now?" Jack asked Laurita his eyes narrowed. She nodded. He let her go, and she wiped her face with her sleeve.

"I'm so sorry; I thought you were one of...them." Jack nodded, but his eyes were cold, distant. Mac frowned giving his partner a puzzled look. Jack scowled and shook his head as he slowly replaced his pistol to the pancake holster at the small of his back. Something was bothering him, but he didn't know what.

"Well, I'm not." Jack's said in a brusque snap. Laurita's eyes widened, and she stepped closer to Mac careful not to touch his sore side.

"Can you find your way back to the plane?" Mac asked. She looked up at his face.

"They smashed the radio and took everything." Mac gave Laurita a full wattage grin.

"That's never stopped me before." the woman frowned.

"I remember the last readings before we hit, would that help?"

"Absolutely." The woman rattled off a list of numbers Jack didn't understand. Mac looked up and studied the tops of the trees then closed his eyes again doing complex equations in his head. Laurita looked from him to Jack. Jack crossed his arms and smiled a proud if somewhat cold smile. Mac opened his eyes.

"Jack, north, northeast?" Jack pointed. Mac nodded and started walking that way, Laurita followed, and Jack brought up the rear. Jack's eyes never stopped moving something had his hackles up, and he didn't know what.

"How do you know it's this way?" Laurita asked having a hard time keeping up with Mac's long stride.

"I triangled our location based on the height of the trees, the angle of the sun and the angle of the ground." Jack frowned and looked down. He raised an eyebrow. They had been slowly walking uphill. The grade was so gentle he hadn't noticed. Jack smiled again at the brilliance of his partner. "Then I estimated your location based on simple physics and…"

"And guestimated where it's at," Laurita said impressed. Jack frowned hearing a twang enter her speech. It sounded local.

"Where are you from?" Jack asked.

"I was born in New York, but have lived just about everywhere, then being a pilot…" The woman shrugged.

"Why were you flying out this way?" Jack continued. Laurita gave him a curious look. Jack gave an aw-shucks shrug. "I fly a little, and I know this is off the beaten path, there's forest for miles and not much else." Laurita glared at him and for a second Jack saw a grimace of fury mixed with fear. Jack filed it away. He was about to confront her about working for the CIA when Mac stumbled into him.

Jack blinked startled and worried.

"Mac..?" Mac leaned in.

"I'm fine; we should be at the plane in a few minutes. I think there's someone ahead of us." Mac whispered into Jack's ear. Jack's eyes widened. He made a show of helping Mac stand upright. Laurita came forward and put her hand on Mac's arm.

"Are you alright?" Mac nodded and gave Laurita a weak smile that wasn't completely fake. Mac glanced up at the trees. The forest was silent except a single crow that screamed overhead facing in the same direction they were traveling. Crows were called "Wolf" birds for a reason. They worked together as a pack and always had a scout that warned the rest of the flock so they would hunker down and avoid predators. The bird was giving warning ahead of them.

"Where did he go?" Laurita squealed grabbing Mac's arm in a tight grip. Mac turned not surprised to see Jack had vanished from their back path.

"He does that. He's probably scouting." Mac said as if he were reporting the weather. Laurita looked all around them trying to see Jack. Mac wasn't worried, no one would see the Delta until Jack wanted to be seen. The thought of his brother watching over him gave Mac comfort.

Jack crept through the dense foliage slowly and steadily. He held his pistol in a double-handed weaver grip canted to the ground but ready to fire in a heartbeat. Jack froze feeling more exposed. He sniffed and smelled some of the worst rotten breath he'd ever imagined. Jack moved to spin, but something slammed into the aching side of his head. Jack fell to one knee and lashed out blindly. He felt his fist sink into a soft bulbous abdomen. Something slammed again into the side of his head. Jack fell flat and rolled over lashing out with his boot. He felt something crunch and heard a yell of pain. He blinked past the blood running down his face and looked up into an old man in soiled ripped clothes with wild white hair. Jack blinked up at him. The man had two teeth in his head and a sparse brush of whiskers sprouting from his chin. Jack gaped at the man's gun.

"Is that a homemade blunderbuss?" Jack mumbled around his swollen jaw.

"Yep." The man said as he thumped the butt of the gun into Jack's head again. Jack fell limp, out cold.

Mac glanced at him with a frown. Something was wrong.

"There it is!" Laurita yelled grabbing Mac by the elbow and pulled him through the thick greenery. Mac scowled. How could she know it was there when it wasn't visible through the dense foliage. Mac stopped and pulled free from the woman as they almost tripped over a broken silver piece of the airplane's wing. She didn't notice and went running up to the wreck. Mac scratched his arm and studied the crashed plane.

A large hole showed where a mortar had blown into the port side. The fuselage had unwound and broke open spilling equipment and leather furniture across the circle of charred scrub bushes. Mac crept closer studying the debris. The cockpit was intact. A bloody body sat in the copilot's seat. Mac frowned. Another glaring inconsistency in Laurita's story. Mac turned to the woman and froze. A ring of guns pointed at him held by three men and a younger woman all wearing black suits and shades. Mac held up his arms and glared at Laurita.

"You work for the CIA?" The four shared a look and burst out laughing.

"Not exactly," Laurita said her voice filled with a thick accent Mac had trouble understanding. Mac half turned eyeing the pile sprawled around them looking for a weapon. He spotted a thick piece of metal the size of a brick. Mac dove for it and landed in a roll scooting behind one of the larger broken pieces of the wreck.

The guns all fired while he was in midair. Mac yelled as a bullet struck him in his bleeding thigh.

"Dammit." He growled. He looked around him desperately. Where the hell was Jack? A figure flew at him from behind. Mac spun and lashed out with the metal catching the tallest man in the knee. The man screamed and bent, his hands automatically reaching for it. Mac slashed out again catching the guy in the side of the head. The man dropped. Hands grabbed Mac from behind and dragged him out from behind his cover. He was thrown to the ground then kicked into his side. Mac curled into a ball as fists and feet rained down on him. Mac had trouble breathing as agony screamed through every muscle and bone. Everything became fuzzy and blinked away.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack's head felt like it had an ax buried in it several times. He moaned and opened his eyes. The blurry world he found himself in rolled his stomach wildly. He tried to feel the boulder popping from the left side of his head and his face. He moved his facial muscles-broken nose, fractured cheek, sore jaw thankfully not broken. The tang of blood in his mouth also assured him he had split lips, bruises and swelling to go with the general agony. Jack couldn't move his hands. He blinked and squirmed getting an idea of the position of his body. His hands were tied behind his back around a pole. Jack, he sat on his knees.

Jack's numb legs and aching shoulders told him he'd been tied up for a long time. Jack closed his eyes then opened them again. Slowly the world blinked into existence around him. Everything had a double edge to it. Concussion. Jack swallowed back a wave of puke. Luckily it'd been awhile since the berries so there wouldn't be much to come up if anything.

"Mac? Mac?" Jack called. No answer, crap.

Jack had travelled back in time. He frowned taking in his surroundings. He was at a small homestead that had been hand chopped from the dense trees around it. The sky above him showed faint stars in a dark blue sky. The sun was almost gone. Glass globed lanterns dotted the yard placed on stumps that seemed to sprout out of the weedy, unkempt lawn. Bugs buzzed around them, a few getting burned into puffs of smoke if they flew too close to the heat. He was tied up to a roughly hewn pole that held a row of clotheslines. Clothes snapped in the breeze over his head.

The house was a mud dugout that would have been common at the turn of the century. Beside the house was a simple roofed structure, under it was a rats nest of glass tubes and simmering vats. Jack couldn't smell the blood clogging his nose, but it had to be meth or moonshine. Given the location, he guessed moonshine. A smaller shelter, this one with a wall on either side but an open front and back held a colossal cauldron cooking over a fire. Jack gulped. The cauldron was easily big enough to boil the remains of a full-grown man. Hooks, saws and other blades hung from the ceiling. In front was a table, the old man who had knocked him out was leaning over a bloody carcass slashing down with a sharp cleaver cutting off a thick chunk of meat. Jack closed his eyes and was glad he couldn't smell. The man turned tossed the meat into the big pot and wiped his hands on a dirty cloth. He glared at Jack then went into the dugout. Steam came out of the cauldron, and Jack could hear the sound of boiling water. His stomach turned.

A sturdy woman in dungarees and a homespun shirt with long stringy hair came out of the dugout wiping her dirt-smudged face. She paused seeing Jack was awake. She grinned and crossed over to him. Jack squinted up at her through a curtain of dried blood. She cocked her head and studied him. She rattled off questions in a heavily accented dialect.

"Sorry, sweetheart can understand a word you say." Jack grimaced feeling his jaw creek. She looked frustrated and yelled back at the house. After a second another woman came out. She looked like her mother only her hair was lighter, and she wore shorts and a T-Shirt. Jack was surprised to notice neither wore shoes.

The older woman rattled off a string to the daughter. The daughter pulled hair out of her face and looked at Jack with a hunger Jack didn't like.

"I'm Nelly, this is Ma, everyone calls her Ma. Pa is over there cooking. Nick is out delivering with Hank." Nelly's voice sounded as southern as Jack had ever heard but had a touch of the same twang as Ma."

"I'm Jack," Jack said. "Why did you bring me here?" Nelly was going to open her mouth, but Ma stopped her. She looked down at the ground and nodded. Ma narrowed her eyes and glared at Jack. Jack wondered what the hell he had done to piss her off, bleed on her sheets?

"I don't suppose you've seen my friend? Tall skinny dude blond hair?" Ma and Nelly shot each other puzzled looks.

"No, we haven't seen anyone like that." Jack didn't know if he were more comforted or worried by that. Mac wasn't a prisoner here, but he was on his own out there. Jack's heart tapped faster.

"Where are you from?" Nelly asked quickly darting away as if she expected Ma to punch her. The look in Ma's eyes said it was a reasonable expectation.

"Texas originally." Ma pulled Nelly back stepped forward shouting at Jack. Jack's head recoiled from Ma's solid slap and bounced off the pole. Jack groaned everything flip-flopping. Ma screeched at him her voice as painful as the blow.

The only words Jack managed to figure out was 'liar' and 'taxman.' Jack blinked. The woman turned and beat her daughter. Nelly shot Jack a quick apologetic glance before Ma grabbed her hair and dragged her down into the dugout.

Jack closed his eyes and slowly pulled his arms closer straightening at the waist. He slowly inched his way to standing His bare arms scraped raw with his movement; his legs tingled and felt rubbery. Jack leaned back against the pole and moved from foot to foot getting the circulation going. He pumped his fists wincing at the tightness of the bindings as they cut into his flesh. Jack thought they were a thin covered wire. At least that meant he wouldn't lose his hands; unfortunately, he wasn't going anywhere without someone cutting him loose. For the quadrillionth time Jack wished Mac was with him. A thought occurred to him that sent him to the ground. He couldn't block out the bubbling sizzle of the cooking flesh. Had that been Mac? Was he cooking in the pan? Jack's whole body shook at the thought and his eyes stung with tears. He shut them shoving the idea away. No, it couldn't be. Jack took a breath and straightened his legs out in front of him. He winced. Falling down the pole had stripped off more layers of skin, and he could feel splinters deep in his arms.

Jack turned to see a tall skeletal man holding a swinging lantern appear from the forest. Jack blinked in surprise. He hadn't heard a sound. Jack remembered how Pa had bushwacked him and nodded. Who knows how many generations these folks had lived in these woods; they could move among them as quickly as the deer. The man stopped and stared at Jack. His face was sharply angular, and his eyes looked set in dark caverns. He wore old patched baggy jeans and a homespun shirt. The flickering light gave an impression of a skull moving in a hundred directions all at once. The effect was unnerving. Jack felt a trickle of fear run down his back but didn't turn away. Jack wondered if this was Hank or Nick. There was a flicker of movement, and another man emerged beside him.

This man didn't come from here, Jack noticed immediately. Jack had heard him walking through the thick foliage. He was quiet but didn't belong to the forest the way the rest of the family did. His dark hair was short and wavy. He was dressed in a flannel shirt and out of everyone Jack had seen he was the only one wearing shoes. He also had a large harness over his shoulders carrying six empty glass bottles. If Jack had to guess this was Nellie's husband and the rest of the family were in-laws. He leaned forward to talk to the skeleton. Jack couldn't make out their low murmur but they nodded glared at him then went inside the dugout.

Jack could feel himself shiver. Full night had fallen, and the forest was cooling quickly. The stars above had burst into full puffs of white light. Jack stared up at them thinking of Mac. Was the kid ok? Had he reached the plane and gotten in communication with Phoenix? Was he on his way to rescue Jack? Or...Jack looked over at the boiling pot and closed his eyes. Would he ever see the kid again?

Jack heard raised voices coming from the dugout. They were all slurred by the same slurred dialect, so Jack didn't understand what they were saying. Jack guessed they were arguing over him. Probably wondering whether to have Jack soup or Jack barbeque baby back ribs. Jack forced his panicked breathing to slow into a deep, comfortable rhythm. He tried to block out his situation, find his center get ready to fight however he could. Jack thought about the man hunted last night and smiled coldly. If they made the mistake of chasing him, he would show him how a real predator works.

Jack lost track of time. Pa came out periodically to stir the pot. Ma came out to gather the laundry. Both gave him long, furious glares that promised a lousy end. Jack grinned back at them amused at the consternation this caused. One of his mutant abilities was pissing people off, or so Riley had told him once. Jack figured it couldn't hurt to keep his enemies off balance. The lanterns burned out and the dugout went dark in the middle of the night. Tied up surrounded by forest with only a few distant stars for companies crept Jack out more than he wanted to admit to himself. Then the screams started.

Jack's muscles tightened, and his skin crawled. He didn't know if it was human or animal, male or female but he was certain it was dying hard. Jack tried to block it out, but he could feel it rattle through the black curtain of trees. All life in the forest silently hunkered down. The darkness around him seemed to push in like cold gauze choking him. Jack pulled desperately at his bindings, but they only got tighter. His heart pounded. Jack froze and closed his eyes focusing. He couldn't pinpoint the direction. Jack shivered his eyes always looking around him.

The screams reached a crescendo then cut off suddenly. Jack bowed his head as he heard the same excited whooping he and Mac had heard last night. Jack gritted his teeth praying with all he had that hadn't been Mac. Jack looked up at the sky, but even the pale stars were gone, ducking behind black curtains.

Jack guessed it was an hour later before the sounds of bloodthirsty celebration lulled. Jack breathed out forcing his tightened muscles to relax. He winced realizing he had bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. Jack blinked against the sudden flare of a flickering lantern emerge from the dugout. Jack's breath caught, and he braced himself to fight. He squinted but couldn't make out the human shape behind the dim light.

"I heard you're name is Jack?" The voice was not local; it sounded midwestern.

"Which one are you Hank or Nick?" The man chuckled and set the lantern on the ground beside them.

"Nick, Nick Corten."

"Jack Dalton, I'd shake your hand, but I'm a bit tied up at the moment." Jack smiled when the man winced. It reminded him of Mac his heart hurt. In the distance, the screams started. Nick covered his eyes and dropped his head. Jack frowned. There was no way this kid was a cannibal. Was Jack wrong?

"How long has that been going on?" Jack asked. His soft voice sounded like a loud echo across the silent night. Nick shook his head.

"About a month or two." Nick paused itching the back of his neck. Jack felt his hairs stand up; this guy was up to something. Jack waited bending his knees and moving his foot to ease away the numbness. Nick looked at him with regret. "You are in danger." He whispered glancing back at the dugout to make sure there was no sign of life.

"No kidding, they're waiting to cook me up in some stew," Jack growled. Nick looked at him eyes widened in surprise.

"What? No...that's ridiculous."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." Nick leaned forward and gestured frantically.

"Look, the screams and hunters or whatever have nothing to do with us." Jack scowled but waited. Nick sighed. "Nellie's folks are very...provincial."

"If you mean there's only one set of chromosomes in the family I agree." Jack moved his fingers getting ready.

"No...well yes, but they mean well…" Nick broke off and shook his head he eyed Jack. "They smuggle moonshine; they aren't worried about the hunters or whatever over the way...they're afraid of tax collectors." Jack grinned in disbelief.

"Tax collector? What the hell? I think the government has forgotten this part of the world exists." Nick chuckled and nodded.

"Their family has lived in these hills for decades. They still think it's Prohibition."  
"Ok, so what does that have to do with me?" Nick took a deep breath then eyed Jack.

"I need your help."

"What?"

"I know, hear me out. Nellie wants out of here. We met when she ran away and went to school in Virginia. They came and took her back against her will. They are incredibly abusive. I came to find her."

"Well, you seem to be a part of this family."

"They barely tolerate me, and that's because I'm a chemist and helped them get their Moonshine to 160 proof."

"Holy shit!"

"Jack, we have to get out of here. I'll help you escape if you help me get Nellie out." Jack sighed and nodded his head.

"Ok, fine I've always been a romantic anyway." Nick jumped up and grinned he ran around the pole and cut the wire with a pair of cutters. Jack jumped to his feet and shook the cord from his wrist and pumped his hands to get the circulation going. The first thing to do-rescue the girl then get Mac back from whatever trouble he decided to get himself into. Jack grinned eyeing the dugout. He turned to the confused Nick.

"So, where do they keep the hooch?"


	5. Chapter 5

*****Warning: This next chapter is not for the faint-hearted. These are cannibals; they are disgusting by definition. Things will get intense, hang in there and it will be worth it I promise.  
**

Mac's world had become a swirl of pain. He fell to the ground with a muted yell of pain. He gasped as a loop of barbed wire around his neck was yanked until he couldn't breathe. Mac gagged and tried to stagger to his feet. The kick in his side warned him he wasn't moving fast enough. Rough hands grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to his feet. Everything spun dizzily. His doubly wounded leg shook and threatened to buckle. The garbled pidgin echoed off the thick forest and mixed with the hoots of excitement and laughter by the group around him. Mac gasped and closed his eyes. He'd already vomited everything that he'd eaten and then some, but still, his stomach roiled with every movement of his head. Mac winced falling as his captors dragged him though bushes and branches indifferent to his pain or wounds. Every grimace or cry of pain brought laughter from his captors. Mac stumbled but managed to keep his feet. He could feel another spurt of blood join the wet coating of his left leg.

The dizzying drag finally ended when they threw Mac to the ground and bound his feet with painfully tight barbed wire. Mac closed his eyes sucking in air and fighting the blackness that crept across his vision. He looked down at his hands and winced. His captors had tied his wrists in front of him with barbed wire. His hands were swollen and covered with blood. He shivered cold. The sun had reached its zenith. More voices cried out in delight. Mac looked up and managed a glance of several shambled hovels in a circle. Mac had a second to notice that they had managed to cut the trees, so the canopy grew over the hamlet.

"No wonder no one could see them from the air." Was his last thought before hands grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. Mac didn't have a chance to balance on his tied legs; the mob pressed against him roared and cheered with bloodthirst. Mac closed his eyes against the tornado of inhumanity. Teeth gnashed all around him, spit spilled down his face, teeth tore into his arms and shoulders, fists pummeled his flesh and pain seared his entire body. He tried to curl in, protect himself in some way but pulls on his hair or the leash yanked him back. Mac lost count of how many times he landed face first on the ground unable to catch himself. Bare feet hardened by traveling the forest, boots slammed into him hard enough to hurt not hard enough to break anything or drop him into the relief of time they dragged him up he was pulled forward and on it continued.

Mac opened his eyes. He gasped blinking confusedly. Everything was quiet around him. He laid back trying to reorient himself. Mac must have passed out. He hurt everywhere. Other than his leg everything formed a blanket of agony wrapping him in a suffocating blanket. Mac braced himself and scanned his surroundings. A metal cage replaced the barbed wire ties. It was too small for him to sit up or stretch out. His captors had compressed his body like a slinky forcing it to fit. Mac grimaced at the raw ache and numbness through all his limbs. Mac slowly rolled over gathering his strength. He pushed himself up on his elbows unable to contain the whimper of pain. His knees brushed the top of the cage. He closed his eyes. Mac told himself he'd been in worse situations. His self replied, bullshit. The putrid smell of rotting meat and slaughterhouse left him dry heaving. Mac wiped away the drool

Mac forced his swollen eyes open, but his left eye refused. He was in a shack made from old sticks and logs. One side was open facing the hamlet. Air came in but did nothing to clear the stench. The cold moist felt like a tongue tasting him before he was parcelled out for dinner. There was no doubt in Mac's mind, Jack had been right there were cannibals, and he was flat in the center of them. Mac refused to give into feeling helpless. He was in a kitchen that could have come from the late 1800s. A string of men wearing only pants chopped body parts into smaller pieces which they either fed to a pot over a cast iron stove or a refrigerator-sized smoker outside the door. Mac gagged on the smell of burnt flesh every time the wind changed, and the cloying smoke blew into the building.

The air was thick with buzzing heavy green flies and other flying insects that buzzed around the bloody uncleaned mess lining the walls, ceilings, floors, and men with blood-soaked aprons and cleavers. Mac swallowed and only tasted blood. Looking down, he grimaced realizing a lot of that stink came from his own body.

He heard a moist murmur and turned. Mac's eyes widened in horror. Five other cages spread along the wall to his side, both holding shivering masses of broken humanity. One was a woman dressed only in panties and bra. She curled into a fetal ball facing him. Mac turned away. Her face crossed with scars, had been ruined. Her left eye was an open socket. He forced himself to turn back. Her body showed deep slashing wounds. The woman's face was empty. Mac gritted his teeth. She was already dead. Her brain had fled leaving her body empty waiting for the end. Mac closed his eyes. He hated himself for thinking it, but it was a mercy. Not a great one, but in this hellhole the only shred open to her.

A naked man in similar condition huddled in the cage beyond her. Mac forced his horror away. He forced himself to think. He remembered the man who had died last night if it was last night. The man had both arms missing. Mac still had all his limbs and wasn't injured badly. He hurt and was stiff as hell, but the only life-threatening wound was his leg. Mac studied it. His leg was wet so he couldn't tell if he was still bleeding or not. The lightheadedness Mac felt told him he'd lost a lot of blood. He squirmed out of his soiled undershirt and wrapped it around his leg tieing it as tightly as he could. Mac shivered and crossed his arms across his chest feeling more vulnerable and exposed. Back to thinking, he scolded himself.

Mac figured that the wounds came from the hunt. Shivering at the bustle of cruelty that had greeted him, it was obvious these people had an insane bloodlust that required the chase to satisfy. Mac had heard about serial killers who got off on hunting their victims before giving in to the ultimate depersonalization of their victims, consumption of all or part of them. Mac grimaced laying back curling into a ball. He turned his back to the other cages. It sickened him to think he'd rather watch their butchers than witness their brokenness. Mac closed his eyes trying to shut out both.

Mac thought about the clothes. The circle who had captured him had dressed like CIA agents. Mac growled. This village of psychopaths took the clothes and other belongings from their victims. Mac looked out the front opening. Only a couple of villagers walked among the ramshackle buildings. Mac guessed most slept during the day so they could hunt during the night. Mac blinked and rubbed his left eye feeling dried blood glue it shut. Finally, it opened, and he could see more clearly if not painfully. He studied the buildings. The haphazardly made structures were built from broken furniture, aircraft bits, and other mixed debris. Mac recognized the seats from the CIA plane lined up along the front of the most substantial hut. The guns Mac had seen had also been an eclectic collection of pistols and rifles from around the world some dating back to the Vietnam era. These people were carrion. They brought aircrafts down then stripped them for building parts. Mac thought about the poor souls behind him. They stripped everything from their victims, using what they could. Mac tasted acid in the back of his throat. To the villagers, any one not one of them was just another resource.

Mac closed his eyes and arched his back as he forced himself to move. He pushed his pain gasps into a slower rhythm forcing his body to control the terror that chilled every cell. Panicking was the quickest way to die in any situation. Mac couldn't hold back the cry of pain that escaped as he forced himself to squirm into a tiny ball and inch after inch changed position, so he faced the front of the cage. He paused and glanced at the butchers. They watched him pointing and laughing then returned to chopping their carcasses.

Mac grimaced and pulled himself to the door. He studied it and frowned. There was an iron bar holding the cage together. Following it with his eyes, he saw it was threaded through steel loops connecting the other cages then ended on both sides in a cast iron bracket affixed to the two side walls. Both sides had locks the size of Mac's hands. Mac scowled. He couldn't think of a single way to break out-not yet anyway. Mac curled up and studied the village more closely. A stone well stood in the center of the ring of buildings. Mac's eyes scanned the details of each hut carefully. He had to admit some of the uses of the debris were clever. If these people weren't inbred psychopathic cannibals, Mac would almost admire their inventiveness.

Mac stopped and leaned forward a small smile playing on his lips. Almost out of his range of vision two buildings to the right of the one he was in a similar open structure two old men bent over a table containing rows of weapons. One with sparse hair and plastic glasses that hadn't been in style since the '80s bent over cleaning a Kalashnikov broken into pieces. Another in a patchwork of colors sewn loosely into the shape of shirt and pants cleaned and sharpened a pile of blood crusted machetes. All around them were piles of weapons leaning against the wall or stacked on shelves along the wall. What interested Mac was on the top shelf. It was an old ham radio. It looked as if it'd been left there a long time. The front of it was cracked, but it was something Mac could work if he could get to it. Mac laid his head on his arm. Looking at the sky, it would be three hours until then. He forced his eyes closed and consciously relaxed his muscles. He needed all the rest he could get if he were to survive tonight.

Mac had managed to slip into a light doze when the crash of the iron bar startled him out of sleep. He looked up to see lamps, different types of Coleman rescue lanterns, held in the hands of villagers. Their faces were twisted and melted by the flickering light. Mac's heart thumped like a fleeing rabbit. Nothing about the horrors standing over him resembled anything human. They laughed and pointed at the prisoners talking in their grating pidgin. Mac concentrated and picked out a few words he recognized. The gist was they were all on tonight's menu. The two other victims would be hunted first. They were not anticipated to be much of a hunt. Mac swallowed around a knot of disgust. He looked down shame burning a hole in his gut. Mac was relieved he wouldn't be first. Worse, he told himself it would be a mercy to the others. Mac looked up and glared at the monsters who had turned him into barely more than an animal. He promised he would destroy them no matter what it took.

Jack cut down a clothesline and crept across the dirt yard to the still beside the building. Nick moved quiet as a mouse; Jack was as silent as a cat. Nick kept glancing behind him to make sure the older man was still there. Jack blinked his eyes widening. He smothered a cough. He didn't know about the moonshine, but he was pretty sure he was getting drunk as hell off the fumes. Nick moved across the nest of bottles and tubes with practiced ease, his lantern glittering along the glass and brass apparatus they passed. There was strong ventilation without walls, but Jack hoped like hell the flame wouldn't spark and blow them all to hell. It was too dark to set it aside or go without it. Jack sucked in a deep breath and winced at the taste of shine in his mouth. At least he'd be high as a kite before he was blown sky high. Nick stopped and pointed to a table. Bottles of all sizes sat upside down on an old quilt. Jack guessed they'd been cleaned and were drying. Jack didn't figure the moisture left in them would be a problem for 160 proof.

"Cut these into foot long strips." He hissed to Nick handing the kid the clothesline. While Nick did that, Jack carefully filled all the bottles he could from the vats of finished turned to Nick and leaned close to his ear.

"Ok, you go in and sound the alarm, tell them I escaped. When they all come out, I'll distract them. You grab your girl and run for the woods. I'll keep them busy then run into the woods."

"You'll get lost."

"That's why I'm expecting you to find me and lead me outta here with one stop." Nick looked at him curiously. Jack glossed over that.

"Look do you want away or not?" Nick nodded and swallowed. Jack could see the fear in the young man's eyes. He put a hand on Nick's shoulder.

"They'll never give up. Ma and Pa got people in these woods. They're going to hunt us down no matter where we go." Jack thought about Mac fleeing from crazed hungry cannibals needing him. Jack liked his odds. He leaned down until his eyes were in line with Nick's.

"We got this, ok?" Nick looked pale, and his Adam's apple bobbed with nerves, but he nodded. Jack nodded back measuring the kid's resolve. He thought the kid would keep to the plan. What he lacked in courage he made up for in love for his Nellie. Jack had seen men do brave things for women they loved. Jack grinned. Hell, he'd grown courage for women he'd loved. It was easier to be brave for someone else. Jack grimaced. Of course, most of those situations were of his own making, and he never did get the girl, but the sentiment remained true.

"Ok, go get 'em." Nick nodded and slipped away taking the lantern. Left in total blackness, Jack cussed to himself. He should have kept the torch now he couldn't see a single thing. Jack grumbled as he gathered the bottles and walked back the way he'd come. His cursing increased with every table or bottle he knocked over. Finally, he stumbled to the dirt lawn. He fished in his pocket then panicked. He always carried a lighter or box of matches as a backup for Mac he'd lost his. Jack panted. He could hear the loud commotion from inside the dugout.

"Dammit!" Jack frowned. He stopped then smiled. He followed his nose and soon bumped into the still boiling cauldron. Jack wondered what they were making. He'd been hanging with Mac too long, he told himself. What did he care? Jack bent and winced as he burnt his forehead bumping into the hot metal. He grunted and shoved the first clothesline into the small fire beneath the cauldron. It didn't light only smoked. Jack glanced at the dugout and saw it light up as alarmed voices sounded loud in the black night outside.

"Son of a bitch!" Jack dipped the clothesline into the shine in another bottle then lit it. Jack yelped in surprise at how fast it flared. He awkwardly stood up and threw it. It landed in the center of the empty yard. With a whoosh, a spark of flame sent light across the circled trees. For a second it blocked out the angry squall from the family. Jack squinted against the sudden brightness. It was already flaming out having landed on empty dirt.

Jack lit another and tossed it toward the still. It exploded. Jack was thrown into the hot metal cauldron and cried out as he fell to the ground. It cost him in blistered skin, but it saved his life. The blunderbuss fired and a scattershot of steel and iron pelted the area where Jack had been standing. Looking up, he saw Ma hand Pa another gun while she loaded the empty one. Jack half turned and lit another Molotov. He tossed it. It landed in front of the couple and gave Jack the space to jump to his feet. Jack frowned. Nick and Nellie were gone, but Hank was MIA too. Jack held a hand to shield his eyes from the white-hot fire. Had the skinny dude gone after Romeo and Juliet?

Jack gasped as something suddenly dug deep into his neck and pulled him backward. Guess not. Jack told himself. He kicked out at the pot with his boots. He had intended to knock Hank back. It did that but also tipped over the cauldron spilling its contents. The bottles broke, and slowly all of the boiling mess flared into blue flame. Jack landed on Hank who howled as the full tide of fluids from the pot sloshed against his side. Jack winced as he got back wash on his arms and chest.

The garrote loosened. Jack dug his fingers under it and growled pulling it away from his neck. He sent Hank an elbow to the jaw for good measure then bounced to his feet sprinting for the dark forest. He heard the anger turn to rage then the boom of the blunderbuss. Jack dove for darkness. He cried out as he felt two thumps on his right side. He sprawled to the ground breath taken away by the impact. Jack pushed himself up and staggered into the black embrace of the thick woods around him. The light of the fires let him see for the first twenty feet. Jack stumbled falling and ran full tilt into a tree. Jack shook his head and felt his way around the tree. Jack had no idea where he was, where he was going and couldn't see a fucking thing. Jack gritted his teeth and pushed forward. As the light behind him meant inbred nutcases who wanted him dead, Jack lurched to the darkest shadows hands out and prayed the young couple found him before he broke his neck.


	6. Chapter 6

Laurita smiled down at Mac after he was pulled from the cage and dumped on the sticky floor. Mac gasped and fought not to curl into a helpless ball because of the agony in his ribs, leg-hell, everywhere. Mac kicked the closest set of legs, a muscular man with a pig's face. The man easily sidestepped. Laurita kicked Mac in the face. He fell back unable to move. Mac glared at the woman who laughed and playfully punched pig face in the arm. Pigface said something and made a universal rude gesture pointing at Mac. All the cannibals laughed. Two turned and dragged the other two prisoners out of the cages and hauled them out the door. Mac watched helplessly but couldn't move. Mac forced his bruised face to remain neutral. Laurita knelt down and stared at him. Mac refused to back down. She pushed her thumb deep into the bullet wound in his thigh. Mac bit his lips and felt his body shake from pain, but he remained defiant. Laurita laughed and let go. She raised her bloody thumb to her mouth and sucked off the blood. Mac didn't try to hide his disgust. Laurita grinned her smile outlined by the red of his blood.

A tumult started outside. Bloodthirsty whoops and shouts of celebration replaced any natural noise the hamlet or forest usually had. Mac grimaced as the other two prisoners fell into unmoving lumps. They were almost finished. He felt rage boil through him. They could barely move what kind of challenge was that? Mac gritted his teeth realizing they were the appetizer and he was the entree. Mac pushed himself to his feet. Only stubbornness kept him from collapsing again. He blinked and gritted his teeth ignoring the lightheaded dizziness. Laurita looked at a mad light in her obsidian eyes. She grabbed his upper arm squeezing it. Laurita grinned and licked her lips. She bent forward to kiss him. He pulled a Jack and headbutted her. A cannibal behind him clubbed him in the back. Mac fell to his knees unable to suppress the cry of pain. Laurita laughed and kneed him in the face. Mac tipped to the side and closed his eyes. If his nose and cheek hadn't broken before, they sure as hell did now. He was dimly aware of voices above him as he was dragged out of the shack. Mac moaned. The colder air brought him from the whirl of pain. He sucked in the fresh breeze like a drowning man. Mac slammed into the hard dirt at the edge of the forest. The cannibals did not bind him. They knew he wasn't going anywhere. A group of five silent elders sat staring at him with dead eyes. They held various rifles, shotguns, and pistols. A string of lanterns made out of food cans gave the circle a wild, ritualistic atmosphere.

Mac glanced around him. The stars were visible as the last gasp of the day melted into a puddle of studded black. Mac turned to the dark forest. He could see far away pixie lights moving through trees, brush, and foliage, hunters with lamps. A howl erupted, a crescendo followed then howls of excitement and victory. Mac heard the screams of the feeble victims. There wasn't anything he could do for the tragic pair. Mac stared at the packed dirt under him and coughed choking on acidic bile burning his throat leaving a foul taste. Mac closed his eyes and managed long calming breaths. He pushed away from the horror and focused on his own survival. The cannibal's celebration peaked; the looming forest echoed with the wet thwaks of blade against bone as the prisoners were butchered. A body plopped in the dirt beside him. He didn't have to look to know who it was.

"That was the children's hunt." Laurita said in her accented twang. Mac closed his eyes tighter at the thought of children cleaving the flesh of the helpless, broken pair. He shook his head and folded his growing hatred into a drawer in his mind. Focus, dammit or you're going to end up as someone's steak, he railed. He turned and glared at her. She watched the woods with the same concentration Jack gave to a Dallas game. Mac's heart cramped at the thought of his friend. He hadn't seen Jack, and Jack hadn't come to help him. Little teeth of fear gnawed his spine, was Jack dead? Mac licked his lips and spat out blood and acid. He knew the cannibals didn't have him; how could they resist a hunt with someone like Jack? Oddly Mac found that idea comforting even though he knew something had happened to his partner.

"They are almost done playing; they'll bring the meat back and then your turn will come," Laurita said. Mac's eyes burned with pure hatred. She didn't notice. "You will have a five-minute head start then we will come for you. We won't have guns, only blades, bows, and crossbows. We like the hunt to be fair." Laurita rattled it off like a bored fast food worker having to repeat the same greeting too many times. Mac snorted. Fair? Seriously? Laurita glared at Mac with surprising heat. Mac smiled taking advantage of her ire. Laurita frowned. Her eyes roved looking for support. Everyone focused on the returning hunters. Laurita shuffled away, putting distance between her and Mac. Interesting, Mac thought his brow furrowing.

Mac smiled as he realized the truth. For all their gruesome psychopathy, they were primarily bullies. They were so accustomed to absolute control and had no idea how to deal with defiance. It would be like a steak biting the face off of a diner. Mac grimaced at his metaphor. He had to get out of here. On the plus side, Mac knew bullies. They were universally cowards and folded with a real challenge. Mac gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. He planned to challenge the fuck out of them.

The long line of lanterns stepped from the oppressive forest. Blood soaked kids from elementary school age up to twenty-somethings danced out of the shadows. They held up pieces of the victim's bodies like trophies. A melee of excitement built around them. Mac managed to stand narrowly escaping feet threatening to trample him. The number of people in the roaring crush had doubled. Mac gasped and closed his eyes. The tide of the cannibal's enthusiastic dancing pressed against Mac in all direction. An elbow jabbed into his ribs, a knee into his leg. Mac cried out. Like rabid dogs maddened by the scent of blood and violence, the cannibals lost themselves in an orgasmic frenzy. Mac's stomach cartwheeled. They hadn't even gotten to the night's big event yet.

Mac looked up surprised. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bright flash of light glitter briefly through the canopy. He knew the curling fire of an explosion when he saw it. Mac felt his heart soar. It was Jack, he knew it. He glanced around him. No one noticed. The brief flash vanished as quickly as it came, but still, the sky in that direction was a shade lighter than the rest of the night. Mac closed his eyes mentally mapping the general path the explosion based on the degree of reflection he'd seen in the canopy.

"Your turn, pretty." Laurita purred. Mac blinked in surprise. The villagers stood in a silent circle around him. In the dim light, their savage eyes sparked with hunger. Pigface licked his lips. Mac could feel every eye rake his body taking in every scratch, curve, and bend from his bloodstained hair to his shuffling feet. Mac's stomach curled into a ball. He understood what it felt like to be pig fattened for the table. The cannibals swayed murmuring. The barely contained eagerness was palpable. Impatient fists swung with machetes, knives- ranging from katanas to bowies- crossbows, longbows and spears.

Pigface shoved him toward the wall of darkness and kicked him forward. Mac rubbed his hands up and down and rolled his shoulders, refusing to show any fear. He hid his grin as cries of anger rang out. 

"You better run, RUN!" They screamed. When he could feel the tension grow to a breaking point, Mac broke into a shambling run. He heard the cannibal's excitement grow into blind need. As soon as Mac was out of the light, he carefully picked his way perpendicular to the direction he had been running. The natural instinct of prey was to flee in the quickest route available, straightforward. The predator knew this and chased the same way. Mac winced as he tripped over a prickly pine bush. He dragged himself back to his feet swaying.

He knew he didn't have the stamina to outrun his captors, that left only one other option-hiding. Mac frowned. The volume of the howls told him they were going to come after him in seconds. Mac turned and walked directly into a tree. He moaned and pulled back holding his aching head. Mac blinked and smiled. It was an enormous Virginia pine. He felt around it. It was part of a tight triad of pines. The bottom skirt of the trees touched the leafy floor of the forest. Mac didn't hesitate. He bit his lip to keep from roaring in pain as he flattened and inched himself under cover of the bottom branches. Mac scooped leaves out from under him and piled them up completely blocking any view of him. He wiggled down until he was flush with the ground. The lowest branch was six inches over his back. Mac laid his head in his folded arms. The moist smell of loam and pine cleansed him of the death that had clung to him. He almost felt free. Mac shivered. He also felt cold, very cold.

Through the branches, he could see insect flickers of torches through the dense woods. Mac froze and moved his eyes. He heard a rustle behind him. Slowly he turned his head. Praying for anything but a bear or cougar, Mac breathed out in relief. It was too small to be life-threatening. Mac sniffed but still couldn't smell anything past his swollen nose. The tiny feet crept closer. Mac almost yelped when he felt whiskers brush his ankle. He closed his eyes as the creature walked his length curiously tickling Mac with a small moist nose. It was the size of a cat. Mac's skin crawled with the thought of the thousands of diseases that scrolled through his mind.

Mac's attention drifted back to the woods. As predicted, his pursuers swarmed straight through the woods. There were outliers. Mac held his breath as he heard the soft skid of feet over leaves come toward him. Mac closed his eyes barely daring to breathe. The animal beside him also froze. He heard gruff voices only a few yards away. He could see their bare feet as the light they carried drew close enough to shine brightly through the branches above him. The animal pressed closer to his side. Oddly Mac found it comforting, like a wild, possibly rabid teddy bear. Eventually, the men wandered back to join their tribe deeper into the forest. Mac slumped with relief.

Mac squawked, jumped, and put his hands over his mouth as he felt a whiskered wet snout dig into his ear. He closed his eyes trying not to move. The sound of sniffing blocked everything out. Mac moaned as he felt a long tongue taste his ear. He breathed out his eyes wet with relief as the nose pulled away. Mac dropped his head onto his arms. His heart skipped again as sharp claws dug into his side and climbed onto his back. Mac shook his head in disbelief as the animal curled up between his shoulders. Mac fought to keep from laughing or sobbing. Why did the world hate him? Of course, it got worse. He felt more claws climb his bruised and cut body. Cubs or pups or whatever young this kind of creature had joined their mother in using him as a luxury bed.

Mac sighed wincing as a tiny furry body sniffed the wounds on his thigh. A long thin fleshy tear smacked into his face; he almost gagged at the familiar musk. He shook his head until the tail pulled back. Possums. Marvelous. Mac forced his muscles to relax. At least they'd help keep him warm, and probably give him rabies or bite him or...Mac closed his eyes. Fuck it; he didn't care anymore. Fatigue dragged Mac into sleep.

"Dammit," Jack muttered rubbing his chin as he again bumped into the rough bark of an ancient oak tree. He turned and leaned against it. Jack closed his useless eyes and strained his ears. He couldn't see the light of the fires anymore, and he knew he'd walked for at least an hour. As slow as Jack had stumbled his way through the forest, he guessed he'd probably gone about a mile. He had no idea where he was, what direction he'd gone in or if he'd gone in circles. He slid to the ground and sucked in air. Jack's side hurt like hell. He felt along the bloody holes and grimaced. They were still leaking. The metal pellets had passed through taking an inch of meat with each one. He leaned his head in his folded arms resting on his knees. Jack shook with cold, damp with sweat. Jack winces at the burn of cuts and bruises. His head felt like his bell had cracked after being rung once too often. That was minor. His fear for Mac was his true agony.

He lifted his head and listened. He heard the sounds of the cannibals change from enthusiastic celebration to a menacing anger. The density of the forest muffled the sound so Jack couldn't pin down the location, but he smiled. He only knew one person who could piss off bad guys that much.

"Mac." Jack whispered. He froze hearing faint footsteps approach him. He frowned wishing like hell he hadn't lost his Baretta. His heart thudded loud in the breathless silence around him.

"Jack?" A soft voice whispered.

"Thank God!" Jack murmured. A pair of footsteps came toward him, one faint the other slightly louder. Jack almost jumped when a hand touched his shoulder.

"Shhhh. A little farther and we can turn on the light." Nellie said.

"That is the best thing I've heard all day!" Jack said his eyes were tearing with sincerity. Nellie grabbed his hand and led him to an animal trail. She put his hands on her shoulders, and he felt Nick put his hands on Jack's shoulders. Even with this awkward kanga- line they made more progress than Jack had. Nellie was one with the woods guiding them around trees and bushes. It was hard for Jack to relax he'd never had blindly trust anyone other than Mac in a very long time, and having Nick hang on him...that was just creepy.

Jack guessed they'd walked for another half hour before Nellie drew up and lit a small lantern. Jack blinked his eyes adjusting to the light. He couldn't see anything but red spots, but he felt as warm as he would at Mac's firepit.

"This way we're almost at the plane." Jack nodded, and the trio continued walking. Jack shifted into his natural pantherine grace. He followed the flickering light his body automatically flowing with the shadows scrubbing every inch of available cover from them.

In another fifteen minutes, Jack could see the shine of reflections off the silver jet. Nellie led the way into the remains of the plane. Jack followed. He scowled. All the electronics were chopped to bits. Mac could do something with them; Jack couldn't. He studied the dead co-pilot.

"Sorry dude." He muttered. His voice seemed loud in the enclosed space. Jack went to turn away but stopped. "Can I see that light a second?" He whispered to Nellie. She handed it to him. He saw the corner of a white box. He bent closer his nose wrinkling at the stink of the rotting corpse. He hated that smell more than any other he'd ever come across. He pulled out the box and grinned. It was a standard Phoenix field emergency kit. He handed Nellie the lamp and worked the container past the corpse's legs and dashboard of the plane. Once he had it free he knelt on the floor of the cockpit and opened it. The first thing he pulled out was the combination flashlight radio. He cranked the handle powering up both. A bright light soon filled the cabin. He grinned up at the young couple who stared at him open-mouthed. Nellie blew out her lamp saving the oil. They knelt beside Jack. Jack dug into the kit. He lifted out the belt pack; he still called it a fanny pack no matter what anyone else said and opened it. Jack was surprised to find an inch thick wad of money and two flash drives. He pulled out the cash and absently handed it to Nick. Nick stared at it eyes wide.

"Wh...that's a lot of money?"

"Hmm, what? Oh, keep it. It'll be a good start for you two." Jack dug further into the box and leaned back breathing out in relief.

"No, no it's too much…" Nellie stuttered. Jack waved a hand at her.

"I'm serious, all it's going to do is rot out here anyway."

"But what about you?" Jack gave her a scary dark look.

"There's only one thing I want, and I'm gonna go get him." The couple shared a nervous look. Jack pulled out first aid supplies, bottled water, and protein bars filling his pack. At the bottom, he found a flare gun with three flares. Jack grinned slipping the weapon in his belt and the flares into his pocket. He gathered up the flashlight and clicked on the radio. Jack wasn't surprised to get static. He turned the radio and pushed in a red button. The radio broadcasted a rhythmic beep. Jack turned the sound off. It would still transmit to anyone listening, but they didn't have to hear it. Jack turned to the couple who leaned against each other staring at him. Jack sighed.

"Look, you don't have to come with me. Take that money and go make a life for yourselves away from here." Nellie smiled and put a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"We are going with you. You'd just get lost without us."

"The only way we can truly be free is if we go with you," Nick added. Jack studied them carefully and nodded.

"Alright, but you know this is gonna get messy?" The couple exchanged smiles then looked at Jack faces flushed with excitement. Jack shook his head. Kids. Jack ducked out of the crashed plane and clicked off his flashlight. Nellie lit her lantern puzzled.

"That light won't travel as far. So, which way to the cannibals?" Jack asked his eyes raking the darkness around them. He motioned for the pair to lead the way. Jack followed. He felt all his senses sharpen until he could taste the trees and animals around them. Jack cataloged the directions of the wind and listened to every shaking leaf or animal step. His adrenaline pumped, and he bared his teeth embracing it. Jack had some hunting to do.


	7. Chapter 7

Mac wandered adrift in a nightmare. If it weren't for the torture wracking his body, he wouldn't know he was awake. Mac tripped over a fallen oak. Two hours ago Mac had awakened to find the cannibal's scattered lights spread across the entire forest. The cannibals no longer celebrated, their raucous cheers changed to howls of rage.

At dawn, a surreal fog seeped up from the damp ground swirling like a resurrected ghost. Mac heard nothing but chattering birds. Only the gravity keeping his feet fixed on the ground told Mac which direction was down. Everything else disappeared into the white mist. He could see just a body's length around him. As he neared them, trees popped into existence looming like monsters reaching out with gnarly skeletal hands slapping him to the ground or tearing his flesh only to vanish as he passed.

Mac tripped on a root and slammed into rotting leaves. Mac cried out, his ribs screaming in protest, a banshee bolt of torment. Mac rolled over his back arching trying to escape the pain, to breathe. The white cloud choked him like icy fingers clogging his throat. Shadows circled his vision. Mac heaved himself to his side and managed to inhale. Mac clutched wet leaves in his fists. Tears flooded his eyes, and he couldn't stifle whimpers as he shook with waves of pain.

 _Easy, it's ok; you're ok, everything's ok..._ Mac slowly focused on breathing clinging to Jack's voice as he did so many times before. He managed to climb onto all fours mentally repeating Jack's mantra until his misery faded to endurable. Mac backed onto his knees. He swiped away the tears knowing he had to focus if he was going to survive. Mac gritted his teeth refusing to give into the panic that smothered him more than the cloying fog. He would let the cannibals carve off all of his limbs if he could have his best friend at his side, Mac rubbed his face with both hands and fought his way to his feet.

His left leg refused to hold him. Mac slouched against the tree. It was full enough it had to be over two centuries old. Mac thought of the history it had seen. The years it had stood unseen in such a dense forest while a country formed around it. The distraction worked, Mac took a breath feeling once more in control. He could think again. Mac rubbed his head and winced at a lump over his left ear. He didn't remember getting it. Mac sighed. His haze of pain was as thick as the cloud he stumbled through.

Mac bit his lip. Reason told him to stop and wait for the fog to lift then orient himself and head toward Jack. But the idea of waiting while cannibals still hunted him and his claustrophobic blindness freaked him way the fuck out. Any shred of logic he managed to grasp was tenuous at best. Mac hobbled forward hoping he wouldn't end up back at the village of psychopaths.

The haze of the fog seeped into Mac's pores. He floated behind his body numb of any pain. He didn't know many times he fell and how long it took to return to his endless zombie shamble. Mac became a cloud lost among clouds. Time had no meaning. When the fog began to slink away, Mac didn't notice until he saw a ray of sunshine pierce the gloom. Mac wiped cold sweat from his forehead and breathed out with relief. The mist cleared from the green canopy above then slowly crept down to the forest. Color seeped back into the world.

Mac leaned against a slender birch and closed his eyes enjoying the sun washing over his skin. He looked up at the green lacy canopy and smiled at the constant bickering of birds. Mac shook his head and focused. He did some mental calculations. Jack always teased him about having no sense of direction. His partner wasn't wrong, but if Mac could see the angle of the sun and knew what time of year and time zone he was in he could figure it out.

Mac thought of the winding path the cannibals had dragged him along to get to their village from the plane. He closed his eyes picturing the turns and directions. He thought that the town had been east of the plane. Hoping for the best, Mac began to trudge west. Mac came across a patch of purple-blue starbursts of chicory whose flowers were opening under the sunlight. Mac sank to the ground and plucked up the plants. He pulled off all of the leaves. They were still wet from the dew left after the thick fog. Mac popped them in his mouth. He didn't know if he'd ever had a better meal. As Mac chewed, he slapped the dirt off the roots and wiped them as clean as he could with his grimy undershirt. He put a long piece in his mouth and munched on it slowly. Mac rolled his eyes in bliss. Once past the musty taste of dirt chicory tasted like a peppery coffee. Mac swallowed wincing at the rough stringiness then took another bite. Chicory roots were useful for settling his stomach, had a lot of nutrients but most of all contained caffeine.

Mac climbed to his feet and nibbled as he walked. He almost felt human again. The fog was gone, and there was no sign of other humans-good news after being on the menu for a village of cannibals. If it weren't for the constant ache in his muscles and blasts of agony from his ribs and leg, he'd almost enjoy the hike.

The sun was at its zenith when Mac heard the tell-tale noise of a bigger animal. He crouched biting down a cry of pain. He couldn't pinpoint the direction, but it was two-footed. Mac's heart pounded with fear and hope. It could be cannibals it could be Jack. Mac closed his eyes.

"Please be Jack." He whispered. Mac's hair stood on end. His gut spasmed when he realized he was surrounded. Shit. Mac got up and crept towards the least number of footfalls. Mac scanned for somewhere to hide, nothing. He forced himself to move with excruciating slowness. Movement drew the eye quicker than sight. He froze smelling the distinct stench of blood. He heard the soft whispers of familiar babble coming toward him. Mac strained to hear. He got the general idea that they had seen him and had been following him for awhile building anticipation for a brutal and slow butchery while he was alive. Mac swallowed and inched closer to a thick bush, trying to merge his outline into the plants. He winced, stabbed by a thousand wooden splinters.

Then everything fell silent. The forest seemed to hold its breath. Mac's heart was loud enough he thought his hunters must have heard it. Mac heard a twang behind him and instinctively ducked. A crossbow bolt disappeared into the heart of the shrub. Mac stood up and ran. Savage cries and stomping feet crashed behind him. Mac's lungs pumped like billows as he did his best to dodge trees, roots, and undergrowth. He was exhausted and his body begged for collapse. Mac gritted his teeth and kept going. A cannibal raised from a bush in front of him holding a spear. Mac never slowed. He leaped and plowed into the woman with a tackle Jack would have applauded. The spear went flying. Both laid still a moment. Mac's panicked adrenaline surged. Mac reached the lance first pivoted and stabbed the woman in the center of the chest with all his strength. The woman's body jerked then she fell limp dead.

Mac pulled the spear free and used it to push himself upright. His breath wheezed in as he staggered forward. Three cannibals came at him. Mac collapsed to the ground amidst them. He jabbed up catching one under the chin. Mac spun and twisted back yelling in pain. He hit the second behind his knees. Mac slapped the spear sideways into the man's neck hard enough to feel his windpipe crunch. The third cannibal kicked Mac in the head. Mac flopped back and shook darkness away. The man kicked Mac in his bad leg. Mac's neck muscles strained, and he screamed in pain. Mac lashed out with his good leg catching the man in his groin. It didn't do much more than piss the cannibal off. Mac kicked him in the balls again harder. The man paused grunting in pain. It bought Mac enough time for him to bring the spear up and shove it into the man's gut. The man fell back clutching his middle.

Mac cried out as he staggered to his feet. His left leg hung useless. He pulled out the spear out and jabbed into the ground pulling himself forward. An arrow passed his face so close its feathered fletching brushed Mac's nose. Mac barely noticed focusing on moving as fast as he could. The cannibals howled with excitement. The wail echoed off the claustrophobic timberland like the call of hell itself. Mac gritted his teeth and kept moving knowing he was done. He heard louder crashing in front of him. Mac paused half turning seeking another route. All he saw were blood-soaked bodies hurdling toward him like elemental demons. In that pause, a crossbow bolt plowed through his right shoulder pinning him to the giant hickory tree behind him. At first, Mac didn't feel it. He desperately yanked at the shaft, but its barbed head was sunk deep into the wood. Mac tried to push himself forward off the bolt, but he couldn't get the right leverage. A group of ten cannibals ran out of the woods shouting in victory. Mac bucked against the tree helplessly. The first two had machetes and slowed as they neared. Pigface licked his lips a wild look in his feral eyes. He ran his finger along the edge of the cleaver. Grinning the man raised the machete. Mac screamed. Then pig face exploded.

Mac turned away as a blur of fire flew into pig face's side. It grew into a magnesium flare. Mac was a yard away and watched as pig face's confusion morphed into pain than fear. The man seemed to glow then burst apart in a splat of blood and meat. Mac spat the gore out of his mouth and swiped his vision clear. The cannibals were as confused as he was. They glared at Mac as they stepped back. Laurita growled and stepped forward with a crossbow aiming it directly at Mac's face. There was another flash, and she exploded. Mac felt his body sink against the tree. He moaned against the explosion of agony in his shoulder. His body shook. He was dimly aware of the cannibals turning and running. Mac yelled as his legs failed him. He could feel the crunch of bone as his shoulder pulled apart.

Strong hands stopped his fall and lifted him to standing. Mac moaned.

"I can't leave you alone for a minute!" A familiar voice joked. Mac blinked thinking he was hallucinating. Jack moved closer leaning Mac against the tree while supporting him under his left arm.

"Jack…'bout time." Mac managed to gasp. He frowned at the spray of frothy blood that flew from his mouth.

"Well you know, traffic." Mac snorted his eyes drifting closed. He heard other voices around him talk to Jack. Mac surrendered to blessed unconsciousness.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack burned with frustration. He munched on a protein bar. It was supposed to taste like chocolate. It had the same taste and texture of cardboard as all protein bars had. Jack closed his eyes. He knew he should be catching a couple of hours of sleep but worry about Mac gnawed at him ceaselessly. He glanced at his watch. They had another hour until dawn. Nick and Nellie curled up together in restless sleep. The lantern was almost out burning its last drops of oil. The air was dense and moist. Jack's T-shirt felt damp and clingy. His side had stopped bleeding but ached like a rotten tooth.

Jack rubbed his eyes and yawned. If it weren't for Nellie, Jack would have thought they'd been walking in circles. They had walked in a winding path avoiding households that knew Nellie's family. The close-knit community would hunt them down. Jack frowned. A thick fog was creeping up from the ground. It was creepy as hell. They had reached a point where they couldn't see more than a foot in front of them. Even Nellie couldn't find the way. Jack had to admit defeat, and they'd settled in to rest until the fog cleared enough for them to move.

Jack closed his eyes. The lamp's flickering light made the circling fog a living thing writhing around them. Jack gritted his teeth. He didn't have the imagination of his partner, but it was hard not to give into gibbering fear. In every horror movie, he'd ever seen bad things happened in fog this thick. Jack had been in more kinds of danger than he could remember. He'd been in some shit most people would be left drooling idiots. Still, there was something about this endless forest that triggered a primal terror. Mac would have some explanation of collective unconsciousness or something Jack wouldn't understand. Jack just knew it triggered every instinct in his body and not in a good way. Add onto this a fog you could reach out and cut with scissors...Jack shivered, and his back muscles twitched. He regularly scanned the night and listened so hard his heartbeat seemed to echo like a Kiss concert.

The forest made little noise. Nothing moved. The stillness made the squirming mist scarier. Jack half expected tentacles to come out and drag him into the woods or some skull-faced ghost to jump at him and suck his soul dry. Jack shook his head and swallowed. Sometimes he wished he had Mac's ability to lose himself in solid nerd stuff, but Jack never really had the kind of mechanical imagination of a genius like Mac had. Most of the time when he saw the demons that savaged Mac, Jack was thankful not to have that ginormous brain. Still, Jack wouldn't mind knowing the square root of the density of the periodic table or some other shit to keep him from seeing ghosts and masks of demons studying him. You would think dying in almost every dream would toughen him against fear, but what danger couldn't do the unknown managed. Damn imagination. Jack's hand twitched, and he wished he'd found his Baretta. It might not be effective against ghouls and goblins, but popping a cap into the Blair Witch or whatever would make Jack feel better.

Even better, dropping some cannibals. Jack's smile was colder than the clinging night. The thick air muffled out the sounds Jack had heard all night coming from the direction Nellie said their putrid village was. Jack's hand caressed the butt of the flare gun. Mac had once told him Phoenix packed the flares with enough magnesium to explode a dude. Jack hoped to blast some of the assholes who'd stolen his boy, and if they hurt him...Jack growled and rubbed his knuckles.

The lantern burnt dry three hours before dawn leaving Jack in total blackness. Jack found the blindness comforting. He closed his eyes. He could feel the lack of open space around him, but it was a feeling he knew well and had made his home a long time ago. Jungles were different, less creepy than this thick timber. First they were warmer and second, they always teemed with life.

Jack had seen a documentary once on Aokigahara, the 'suicide forest' at the foot of Mt. Fiji in Japan. Some kids who called themselves 'ghost explorers.' had snuck in and spent the night. Most of the video the twenty-somethings had wandered in circles scaring the shit out of themselves over nothing, Jack had laughed. Not that he would ever go into that nightmare voluntarily mind you, you had to be careful of these things because you never knew. Even with paper ribbons leading off faint trails to bodies deep in the impenetrable forest, Jack thought he'd be less freaked out than he was now.

A loud sound cutting through the obsidian night threw Jack to his feet flare gun out and aiming at him. It sounded like a muffled trumpet mixed with whale song.

"What the fuck is that?" Jack muttered. He heard a cry of alarm from the couple as they shot awake. The same sound came from a different direction, then another. Jack looked at the kids shaking his head unable to see them. "What was that?" He demanded again.

"It's the shofar." Nellie said. Her voice shook as if she were telling a real ghost story.

"A what now?"

"A shofar, most of the moonshiners have them. It's like a call to arms. I guess they made some religious thing out of the shine business." Nick babbled. Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Nice woods you got here." He growled. Inbred smugglers and criminals who had a weird thing with booze, cannibals and who knew what else...Jack began to forget he was actually in one of the oldest parts of the United States. He cocked his head as more rang out.

"It means they're coming for us at dawn." Jack scowled.

"How many?"

"I know of fifteen homesteads," Nick said. Jack could hear his gulp of fear.

"And how many per homestead?"

"Well, it would be only the men of the house." Nellie's voice had a note of betrayal more than fear. Jack nodded. These were her people hunting her. He couldn't imagine how that felt. "So probably about fifty in all."

"Fifty?" Shit. Jack glanced at his watch, an hour to dawn. "We gotta move."

Jack pulled out the radio/ flash and cranked the handle. He turned away closing his eyes to preserve his night vision. The blaze of white light shone through the fog brighter than Gandalf's staff. Jack grimaced trying to think of a way to mute it. He heard a rip and Nellie handed him a long piece of cloth. Jack stared at it not wanting to know where she'd gotten it from. He nodded and wrapped the flash in it. It would still be easy to see, but he didn't think the glow would travel more than a mile or two in this soup.

"Ok, Nellie you're up." Nellie nodded squaring her shoulders. Staying bent low, they crept into the forest. Time seemed to freeze. Jack could have been walking on a treadmill for all the feeling of distance he got. The fog slowly lightened until it was a bright grey. Jack clicked off the flash and put it back in his fanny pack.

He heard shouts and stomping of boots coming from behind them. He growled. He stopped Nellie and turned to the kids. It was just bright enough to make out their wide eyes. Jack put a hand on Nellie's shoulder feeling it tremble under his hand.

"Ok, you keep walking about a hundred yards or so, make sure to leave an obvious trail then slip off to the side and make your way back here." Nellie nodded.

"What about you?" Nick asked, his voice a pitch higher than usual. Jack's grin turned feral. His eyes narrowed.

"I need my morning workout." The others shared a puzzled look. Jack shooed them away. He waited until the dense fog swallowed then ducked behind a broad Hickory. It took about twenty minutes before he could hear their pursuers come close.

"It was the stranger." He recognized Pa's voice.

"I know Pa; we never shoulda taken in Nick."

"He had the makings, son. He coulda folded in."

"Yeah, Pa looks like they went this way. You fellas ready?" The mumbling chorus seemed to be five men. Jack saw formless shadows step from the fog. He ducked lower even though he doubted the men could see him. He studied the hillbillies. They were all dressed in makeshift clothes frontier settlers probably wore when they first crossed the Mississippi.

"I can't believe they blew up your still." A large man with a Hagrid beard grumbled in a deep voice. The group shared a frightened look.

"They gotta pay for that." Another man Jack couldn't see clear said in a sibilant hiss.

"Oh, they will." Pa declared clutching his blunderbuss. Jack thought he looked like an older and meaner Elmer Fudd. Unlike the older man, the other pursuers carried modern weapons. Jack spotted a Remington shotgun, two Smith and Wesson auto pistols and one pistol he couldn't make out possibly a Rutger. The hunters stomped by him. They didn't scan for dangers and didn't worry about noise. Jack's adrenaline thrummed through him. He waited until the last man passed him-a small kid barely out of his teens who looked bored and casually held the shotgun over his shoulder. Jack silently paced him then reached up and snagged him around the neck pulling him behind the bush. Jack's sleeper choked off the kid's startled yelp. Jack lowered the unconscious kid and plucked up the shotgun. He dug spare shells out of the kids pocket and stuffed them in his own.

He moved forward silent as a panther. Jack frowned. He didn't want to kill these guys; they may be crazy as hell, but he respected good moonshine. Besides, Jack told himself, he wanted to save the murder for the cannibals. He stood up and walked behind the next two in line. They were talking back and forth their pistols swinging in their hands. Jack lashed out with the butt of his shotgun at the one on the right. He staggered and fell to his knees but didn't go down. Jack kneed him in the chin as he swung the shotgun backward over his shoulder catching the second dude in his breastbone. Jack fought the impulse for a killing blow to the neck. The man staggered back. Jack spun and gave him a back mule kick in the gut doubling him over and pushing him back into a half-dead maple sapling.

Pa and Hank whirled their weapons coming to bear. Jack leaped to the side landing in a neat roll that ended with a thump into a hard cherry birch. Jack fell back shaking his head dazed. He rolled over onto his stomach in time to avoid the Blunderbuss's spray of pellets that shredded the birch bark over his head. Jack raised the shotgun and fired aiming over their heads close enough to send them running for cover.

Jack focused on Hank. The blunderbuss would take time to reload. Jack's stomach flip-flopped as the dark eye of the barrel aimed directly at him. Jack howled and charged. The kid's eyes went wide with surprise before he was bowled over by the Delta. Jack rode the kid to the ground and again avoiding a killing blow snapped the barrel across the kid's head. Hank's head snapped to the side, and he was out. Jack rolled to the left of the kid but knew he'd run out of time. As practiced as he was, Pa was done loading and had Jack dead to rights. Jack raised the shotgun ready to take the man with him when he heard a rustle, and the old man's eyes rolled back, and he fell unmoving to the ground. Jack blinked in surprise.

Nick leaned over the old man panting and wide-eyed a thick branch in his white-knuckled fist. Jack smiled. He doubted the kid had ever been in a fight before. Jack smoothly stood up and went to the younger man. He put a calming hand on his shoulder and gently took the stick from his hand and tossed it back into the woods. Nellie knelt beside her father sadness on her face. She lightly brushed the side of his face and gave a watery smile.

"He isn't a bad man." She said.

"I know," Jack bent and checked the dropped weapons. If he had been, he wouldn't be breathing. Jack silently added. Jack tucked the two S and W's in his waistband shaking his hips until the three weapons were in comfortable positions. He lifted the shotgun and handed it out to Nick. Nick stared at it then at Jack his mouth open as he shook his head. Jack sighed. Luckily he was accustomed to working with a partner who never carried a gun, although Jack doubted Nick would be a shred of use in a fight.

To his surprise, Nellie reached out and took the shotgun. In one fluid motion, she cracked it open and checked the rounds.

"I thought only men toted guns," Jack asked amused. Nellie rolled her eyes and held a hand out for the extra shells.

"What men think women do and what women do are a whole lotta far apart." Jack chuckled and handed her the handful of shells. He raised an eyebrow as she tucked him in her bra. She glared at him. Jack nodded.

"Fair enough." The morning sun burnt the fog away starting with the lacy tops of the canopy to the leafy floor of the forest. Jack relaxed with the return of control. He grinned at Nellie who smiled and led the way through the forest. Shafts of light angled down like ribbons from heaven.

Around noon Jack heard the yowls of savage joy. His heart thumped like a terrified rabbit. He pulled the first weapon he put his hand on, the flare gun. He pulled it out and dug out a flare loading it on the run. He ducked under low branches and shoved through bushes. He didn't care if Nellie of Nick followed him or not.

He heard a chorus of excited cries and the sound of fighting. Jack growled and pumped his legs faster. Jack heard a familiar voice scream in agony.

"Son of a bitch," Jack growled. He skidded around a tree and jumped a thick knot of roots. Mac was tacked to a tree by his shoulder. Jack had a second to see how bad the kid looked before rage flowed free. He aimed and hit the first Cannibal closest to Mac. It took a second, but the asshole did blow up. Jack grinned his eyes resting on Laurita, the bitch responsible for Mac's hurt. He shot her and moved while she still flared. He pulled both pistols and let them bang away as he ran to Mac's side. After Laurita exploded the Cannibals turned tail and ran. Mac cried out, and Jack could tell he wouldn't be standing much longer. Mac's knees caved as Jack reached his side and caught him. He winced at the blood and bruising.

"I can't take you anywhere," Jack said his voice gruff with worry. Mac managed a small smile unable to hide the relief in his eyes.

"About time you got here." Mac coughed out. Jack's worry peaked at the spray of frothy blood. He studied Mac's shoulder and winced. The crossbow bolt was metal and about half an inch in diameter. It had missed Mac's collarbone but probably passed through the kids upper lobe of his lung and his scapula. Not good. Mac coughed his eyes again slowly closing. Jack raised him up. Mac opened his eyes.

"Traffic, you know," Jack said trying to keep the kid with him. Mac rolled his eyes then his head fell forward. Jack heard a noise from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a trio of cannibals coming at them with machetes. Jack cursed looking for a way to hold Mac up and fight off the three attackers.

Jack jumped at a loud boom. Mac cried out in pain and coughed another splatter of blood.

"Sorry, brother," Mac mumbled. Jack glanced over and grinned as Nellie shot both barrels into the tight group. All three fell screaming to the ground. Nellie reloaded then calmly walked over and shot one barrel at two of them, then stomped the third in the throat. Nick and Jack both stared at her open-mouthed. She flipped her hair back and smiled at Nick.

"Are you ok, honey?" Nick nodded and walked over to Jack's side. Mac looked about bled out, but at that minute Jack thought Nick was even paler. Nick shook his head and licked his lips not sure what to do with Mac's plight.

"What are we going to do?" Nellie asked from behind Jack. She reloaded frowning. These were the last two shells. She stood watch. Jack focused on Mac then looked at Nick. Nick looked carefully at the shaft of the bolt.

"I think we have to pull him off it," Nick said turning even paler. Jack nodded.

"I'm sorry, Mac," Jack said softly. He glanced at Nick, they shared a nauseous look, grabbed Mac by both shoulders and pulled. Mac's eyes fluttered and his cried out blood running from his mouth. The shaft pulled out covered in blood. Jack caught Mac's limp form and eased him to the ground. He pulled Mac onto his lap and pulled away the shredded remains of Mac's shirt. Jack winced at the gaping hole that almost bubbled with thick red blood. He could feel it run down his leg.

"Shit," Jack growled. He looked up at the bellow of the shotgun. Nellie looked over her shoulder.

"They're regrouping."

"Dammit," Jack growled. He pulled the first aid kit from the belt pack. Jack unfolded two tampons. He'd always laughed at their inclusion in the standard survival kit; he saw their use now. He shoved one in either side of the wound. Mac whimpered. He was cold, clammy and shook. Mac's eyes cracked open, and he weakly clung to Jack's T-shirt. Mac coughed, and another spurt of frothy blood spewed out. Jack pulled out an ace wrap and wrapped Mac's shoulder tight to his body. He glanced up. Nellie looked at him desperately dropping the shotgun and grabbing one of the machetes. Nick stood staring at his hands wet with Mac's blood. Jack could feel the creeping hunters watching them from the woods.

He bundled Jack up in the mylar heat blanket then lifted him up. He turned to Nick and stepped closer grunting under Mac's weight. Nick looked up. Jack's cold severe black eyes bored into Nick's.

"You protect him with your life," Jack said in a threatening grumble. Nick nodded solemnly and took Mac into his arms.

"I'll protect him like I would Nellie," Nick said. Jack grinned and tapped on the shoulder. He pointed to the east.

"Head that way; we're right behind you." Nick nudged Mac up and ran as fast as he could into the woods without jarring the blonde. Jack turned and handed Nellie a pistol.

"Never used one of these," Nellie said her eyes wide with fear. Jack smiled.

"Don't worry darling, they are tuned up and ready to play. Aim and squeeze." Nellie nodded. She and Jack slowly moved backward as the Cannibals crept forward. Jack snarled and gently nudged Nellie after Nick. His eyes wandered over the forest. The birds were silent. They knew what Jack knew. It was going to hit the fan in about thirty seconds.


	9. Chapter 9

Jack growled and shoved Nellie ahead of him. He tried to conserve bullets, but even if he had two full pistols, they wouldn't have kept back the crush of cannibals chasing them. His goal was to slow them down, buy time. He wasn't sure for what. Typically this would be the point when Mac would be coming up with a brilliant improvisation to get their asses out of trouble.

"I don't have any more bullets!" Nellie cried. Jack glanced at her. Even though her

Eyes were wide with fear; she stayed by his side with courage that made him proud.

"Go, I'm right behind you!" She nodded and fled after Nick and Mac like a deer. Jack swallowed and backed along the same path. The cannibals held back, but they weren't stupid. Jack growled. He held the handle of the machete he'd taken from Nellie calculating as he shot his second to the last bullet. He could do some severe damage, but eventually, he would be chopped up and cooked for dinner. Jack glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. The grade of the hill had been steadily increasing. Jack had been so focused on slowing their pursuers as much as possible he'd left trail picking to the mountain couple. Even if he was hiking for fun, he had no idea how he could have found this narrow winding trail with out Nick or Nellie.

It was a deer trail. Roots stuck out along the path like giant toes. Jack tripped over one and caught himself on a gnarled oak. Pain in his side exploded. Jack gasped and gritted his teeth. He was soaked and knew some of that was blood. He didn't know how bad his rib grazes had reopened. The cannibals whooped at the sight of his blood. He shot the first cannibal who lept ahead. The others howled raising their bladed weapons cheering like a football team at homecoming. At least they didn't have any more crossbow bolts or arrows. Jack saw a group leave the bloodthirsty pack and run back the direction the chase had started from; Jack sincerely doubted they had fled in terror, that meant reinforcements and not for Jack and his friends.

Jack gritted his teeth. Ten feet behind him to the right the trail abutted a steep bluff that dropped about half a mile. To the left was a stack of boulders stacked up against a solid fringe of trees that angled up almost completely verticle. Jack blinked sweat out of his eyes. His tired legs dragged him up the incline. They had been retreating for more than an hour. There was plenty more mountain; Jack just hoped the twisty animal trail climbed most of it. Jack fell onto his ass. He swore.

The cannibals surged for the kill. Jack fired his last round and threw the gun. The wailing feral tribe swarmed forward. Jack wrinkled his nose; they stank of rotten flesh. The closest one had a moon chin covered in blood. Jack slashed aiming under the chin. Jack almost severed the man's head. His eyes blinked surprised as blood spewed out and he dropped dead. Jack didn't stay long enough to see it; he scrambled to his feet, turned and sprinted up the trail. Jack felt hot breath on the back of his neck. He climbed fast as a spider. His heart throbbed with pain as it bounced between heaving lungs. He reached an oval overhang about ten feet wide half covered in brush. Suddenly a hand reached out, grabbed him firmly by the arm and dragged him into the thicket.

Jack whirled on the trail facing his attackers, his body tense, ready for his last stand. Screaming in victory, the first wave of cannibals barreled into him. There were terrified screams, and all of them plunged through a weakness in the trail and straight down the cliff.

Movement. Movement and pain were Mac's entire world. He gasped and choked feeling blood fill the back of his throat. His eyes snapped open with panic. He was trapped! He fought against the plastic binding wrapped around him.

"Pl...please don't...we'll fall...Jack'll...kill me." Mac struggled harder not recognizing the voice.

"Ja-!" Mac gurgled before he was lost in agony flaring in his shoulder and side as he desperately gagged for air. Someone gently lowered him to the ground and supported him in a sitting position. Mac tried to move his right arm, to fight but it was bound tightly to his body. He jackknifed choking on blood. Unfamiliar hands turned him with surprising gentleness turned him so he could vomit. Mac gasped his screams of pain lost in the flood of red. He collapsed back. Mac felt weaker than he ever had. He shook his head refusing to close his eyes. He took in his surroundings.

A man his age knelt beside him. The guy was heaving in the air. Sweat gushed down the man's face and soaked his clothes. His skin was bright red. He looked about ready to fall over.

"Who are you? Where's Jack?" Mac again spat out blood. His chest felt heavy. He knew his punctured lung was filling with blood. He leaned over his wounded shoulder and wheezed in more air. He still had one lung, no problem, get on with it. Mac growled and blinked sweat from his eyes. At least, he thought it was sweat. The dark haired guy pointed down and behind them.

"I...I'm Nick." Mac spat again and squinted. They were on a high narrow twisty trail if you could call a spotty path of dead patches linked by roots and scrub a trail. Jack and a woman, Nick's age, were shooting pistols at a circle of cannibals. The attackers's blood was up. Mac nodded. It wouldn't be very long before they would swarm up and over Jack. Mac scanned the environment around him thinking furiously. He rustled the silver mylar wrapped around him and smiled as an idea occurred to him. He looked at Nick.

"You're gonna have to be my hands," Mac said. Nick looked at him obviously thinking the blood loss had made him delusional. Mac glanced at Jack. Don't do anything stupid, he mentally screamed at his partner. He could see Jack stop and make a stand-an incredibly brave but stupid thing to do. Mac shook his head forcing himself to focus. He studied the sun's angle as it hit the trail.

"We don't have much time." Mac's hissed. Nicked nodded and stood.

"What are we doing?" The guy was still worn out but breathed easier. Mac grinned.

"Have you ever heard of Pepper's ghost?"

"That was awesome!" Jack yelled as he kicked the last cannibal after the others. He watched them tumble down the steep slope smashing into trees and each other with enough force the sound of crunched bones echoed up the steep bluff. None of them moved. Jack knew no one would grieve them; maybe they'll do something useful like help more trees grow. Jack bent over a hand against his side as he tried to suck in air. He grinned and spun.

Jack almost whooped again in joy. The other three of their merry band sat huddled against the row of boulders behind him catching their breath and regrouping. Jack opened the last bottle of water and took a deep swig. He handed it to Nick. Nick had slumped into a puddle of gangly limbs. His face was still cherry red. Jack smiled genuinely impressed by the strength and stamina the kid had shown. Nick handed Nelllie the bottle, she looked at Mac who was barely conscious. Jack read her mind.

"He can't have any, it'll go straight into his bad lung." Nellie frowned and nodded drinking the rest of the water. Jack broke apart the last two protein bar forcing himself to munch on the cardboard wafers. Pretty sad when he almost wished for MREs.

MacGyver's long body stretched the length of the small plateau. Mac laid tilted toward his wounded shoulder to help ease the fluid building in his lungs. His head rested on Nellie's lap. Jack met Nick's eye and nodded at him. Nick nodded back and looked down. Jack owed the kid a debt he doubted he could ever repay. Jack knelt down in front of Mac and held his left hand.

"I knew you'd never let me down," Mac managed a weak smile before coughing out more frothy blood. Jack frowned and wiped it away. Jack noted the sweat blooming from his brother's forehead. Mac closed his eyes and wheezed in another breath. Jack felt the kid's forehead with the back of his hand; Jack shook his head not surprised to feel a fever raging in the kid's grimy body. Mac was a sickly yellow. Jack moved his hand to Mac's left shoulder making sure it wasn't a dream, and his partner was alive and back with him.

"They're gonna be back," Nick said his gaze bouncing between Jack and Mac with a look Jack had seen a thousand times before-part joy, surprise, and hero worship. Nellie looked down at Mac as she gently brushed his hair away from his wet face. Jack smiled as Mac's breathing eased a little. Laying on a pretty lady's lap does that. Jack chuckled and shook his partner awake. Mac winced; his eyes opened.

"How the hell did you do that?" Jack asked trying to wake up Mac's exhausted brain. Mac coughed his hand curling again around his broken ribs. Jack would have done anything to ease the pain. Mac was helpless to keep his agony from showing on his face. After a minute of breathing, Mac focused on Jack.

"Pepper's ghost...reflections and light reflected off...mylar." Jack rubbed Mac's back. Mac leaned into his touch. Jack felt bunches of muscles unclench. He decided right there that he wasn't letting his brother out of his sight ever again, like EVER.

"Ok, brilliant as always, bud. Any ideas on what to do now?" Mac shook his head groaning. Mac put his hand on his forehead. Jack scowled. As always the kid refused pain pills. Jack knew they would suck being dry swallowed, but Mac was almost at his last rope. Jack decided he was done asking. Jack fished into the belt pack and leaned forward opening a foil bubble wrap containing three pre-drawn syringes. Mac closed his eyes. Mac was so lost in misery that he didn't notice what Jack was doing until the first stick stabbed his stomach. Mac jumped yelping in pain. He glared at Jack. Before he could say a word, Jack tossed aside the used syringe then jabbed the kid with the other two.

"Son of a bitch!" Mac cried before dissolving into an epic bout of coughing. Tears streamed down his face as he shot Jack a weak glare of betrayal. Jack rubbed Mac's back. "I know, kiddo. You know what they were-antibiotic, vitamin B12 and pain killer...I'm sorry, brother, but you needed it." "Mac closed his eyes trying to control the uncontrolled pain wracking his entire body. He saw the guilt in Jack's gentle eyes.

"It's ok, next time warn a guy." Mac groused. Jack smiled looking away. They both knew that was the only dose they had. If they didn't get off this cursed mountain, there would be no next time.

"Well, here's a warning, buddy." Mac had enough time to shoot Jack a puzzled look before Jack shoved some clean dressings under the elastic binding over Mac's shoulder. Mac moaned. His head fell forward as Jack raised him and did the same for the hole in his back. Jack didn't dare remove the elastic dressing and hoped the added pressure would staunch the continuous ooze of blood.

Mac was lucky the bolt hadn't hit lower. It bought them some time. Jack scowled. Some but not much. Jack glanced at Nellie who shared his worry. Mac rolled onto his side and spat up more orange, frothy blood. They sat in silence a long minute. The only sound being Mac's wheezes as he took in slow deliberate if shallow breaths. Jack looked away rubbing his eyes; his brain burned as he tried to think of a way out that didn't involve being some psycho's filet mignon.

"Jack…" Mac said. Jack turned back a smile playing on his lips. He knew that tone, "I have an idea." Jack's smile vanished. Mac didn't have the bemused stare he gave when he thought of something that would probably work; his face had the guilty fear that usually meant his plan was more than likely going to get them killed and he knew Jack wasn't going to like it. Jack didn't, not at all.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Jack bellowed. He kicked the prickling bushes beside them sending twigs flying. Nellie and Nick stared at Mac as if he were insane. Mac managed a deep wheeze and slowly explained his logic.

"Jack...the transponder doesn't have enough power to reach beyond this forest by itself...a helicopter would have to be 100ft directly overhead to hear past the trees…"Mac's eyes were bouncing closed, "They have guns...hut...of guns." That stopped Jack. He looked at Mac whose blue eyes were barely half open. Jack scrubbed his hands over his face.

"Ok, so the plan is to climb back down this mountain, avoid the cannibals coming up who will be pissed about us wiping out all their pards and have guns galore. Then waltz into the cannibal's village put together a radio with a broken-assed ham radio that hasn't heard a voice since Alexander Graham Bell. After that, we're gonna call for a taxi and scoot outta here before the lovely owners of the village realize we stole their shit. Do I got that right?" Mac managed a shrug. "Pretty much." Jack laughed stretching. He glanced at the sun which had started its nightly descent.

"Ok, great. Sounds like fun." Jack's sarcasm went ignored in the haze of his partner's pain. Mac nodded, closed his eyes, and was out again.

"This is insane." Nick said staring at Jack his mouth hanging open. Jack sighed and nodded.

"I don't have anything better, you?" Nick frowned looking down his shoulders slumped. Jack glanced at Nellie who was stroking Mac's hair staring at him thoughtfully. Nick shook his head.

"You got something in mind, darling?" Jack asked the girl. Nellie looked up a new fear in her eyes that seemed worse than what Jack had seen when she'd faced off against the cannibals.

"I might know someone nearby that could help." Nick stood up bristling with anger. Jack found himself automatically stepping closer to Nellie and Mac to ward off any attack.

"Nellie, no. You know what would happen…" Nellie shushed Nick with a cold glare. She turned to Jack and pulled a long strand of hair away from her face.

"I have an...uncle that lives about a mile west of here. He...might help us." Jack frowned as her voice shrank to a worried tremble.

"For a price, I'm guessing?" Nellie waved away Jack's concern.

"He was a medic in Vietnam and probably has some herbs that could help Mac." Jack's eyes narrowed.

"What aren't you saying, Nellie? We can't deal with any more issues right now."

"Jack, It'll be ok, I swear." Jack nodded. It's not like they had any other options. Nick took another step forward.

"No! Jack, Uncle Ernie is...insane! He…" Jack spun on the kid, his patience wearing thin.

"Is he worse than the cannibals?" Nick's mouth slammed shut.

"Ok, let's move. We don't have much daylight left, and we have to find some way of hauling m'boy down this mountain."

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I'm sorry about the change in font-size in this chapter, not sure what went wrong, evidently my lap top was too busy having a squeegasm like me about tonight's ep! I have gotten requests for tags from this season. I am holding off until the end of the season when there will be Bits and Bobs season 2, it helps me over the hump of a Mac-less summer! Only three more chapters to go...


	10. Chapter 10

Wet with sweat, he shivered as they neared the spine of the mountain. The air was thinner and laced with frozen mist. Jack glanced at the unconscious Macgyver laid on a stretcher woven from tree branches. Jack worried what this cold wind would do to Mac's already wounded lungs. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, on the outside. On one of their rests, Jack had undone the dressing and checked. Mac's shoulder was twice it's regular size. The tampons were holding. Jack redid up the elastic bandage after changing the gauze.

"How is he?" Nick huffed. The man hunched over rubbing his hands blistered from toting the other end of Mac's stretcher. Jack looked at him and frowned.

"Not good. The sooner we can get Mac off this mountain the better." Nellie put a hand on Jack's arm.

"We're almost there." She assured the older man. Jack stood up and stretched. He glanced at Nick who nodded and lifted the blonde. Mac moaned, a sound barely audible over the constant moist grinding of his lungs. Jack was relieved when his partner remained out and hoped it was more from sleep than from unconsciousness. He couldn't imagine the torture the kid must be feeling.

The sky had dimmed to a dark purple by the time they reached their destination. Jack blinked sure he'd finally gone over the cliff to crazy. One minute they are in the same deep tinder the next they're on Main Street, USA. Uncle Ernie's house was a neat white bungalow on a half acre of perfectly green lawn. A cement pathway started suddenly at the edge of the forest and winded up to the front screen door. Through a bay window curtained with lace, Jack could see the golden glow of electricity. Jack almost cried.

Behind the house were two long buildings. One made of wood and bark reminded Jack of the Shoshoni lodges he'd seen in museums. The other was a greenhouse. Jack nodded and smiled. The herb Uncle Ernie made his money from was probably marijuana. To maintain this house in the middle of this inhospitable woods had to cost a buttload.

"We're here," Nellie said her voice despondent as if she were looking at gallows waiting to be hung. Jack had noticed the girl had been steadily walking close beside him. Now they almost brushed elbows. He could feel her fear.

"Hey," He murmured. Nellie looked at him terrified. Jack wondered what horrors awaited them behind the traditional facade that could scare the girl who'd faced a hoard of cannibals. He wished his hands weren't full; he wanted to hug the girl and make all her fear go away, "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, ok?" Nellie swallowed and nodded, but none of her fear eased. She gently rested a hand on his arm.

"Thanks, Jack. It'll be fine." Nellie turned and walked to the door. Jack didn't like the fatalism in her voice or the slump of her shoulders. Nick's back was ramrod straight and his fist white-knuckled around the handles of their makeshift litter. Whatever the history was here, it wasn't right. Jack mentally braced himself.

The man who answered the door was not what Jack was expecting. The man was tall and fat, his shoulders hunched forward and his long arms hung forward like a gorilla's. His long silver hair was pulled back in a thinly braided bull whip. His dark eyes peeked out of a bushy nest of black hair that bloomed around a thin hawkish nose.

"Belle, you've returned to me." The man's voice was smooth velvet almost soothing; it was creepy. Jack pictured a tarantula waiting to pounce on its lunch. Unlike Nellie's folks, this man's voice had no accent, and he sounded well educated. The man wrapped his giant paws around Nellie who stood frozen in his embrace her arms at her side. The girl's head fell, and she bit her lip holding back tears. Jack's eyes narrowed. There was something possessive and cruel about the man's embrace. Jack did not like Uncle Ernie and believed that they all might be better off if he snapped the dude's neck right now. Jack's eyes fell on Mac's bleached face. All of them except Mac. Jack gritted his teeth.

"Th...these are friends of mine, Uncle…" Nellie started her voice wound with tension.

"No! I told you what to call me!" The man's tone never changed, but Jack could feel menace radiate from the man. Nellie's skull fit into one of Ernie's massive hands, and he cupped it as if he wanted to smash it like a coconut.

"Y...yes, Master." Nellie looked down. Jack growled his muscles were tightening. The man smiled his teeth a perfect row of silver daggers in the moon's light. Ernie patted Nellie on the cheek then pushed her toward the house. Nellie almost ran into the house shaking with bottled crying. Ernie studied the two men. He smiled at Nick who stiffened and looked down.

"You're the outsider staying with Ma and Pa." Nick nodded. Ernie dismissed him and studied Mac. The man frowned and sighed. Jack frowned thrown a bit. Ernie looked genuinely concerned. He glanced up at Jack, barely noticing him. "Bring him in quickly; this cold isn't good for him. What happened? Those bloodthirsty beasts?" Jack nodded. Ernie walked beside them and held open the door. Mac coughed and moaned as Jack and Nick worked the stretcher through the door.

Jack had a second to enjoy the warmth and the light of electricity before being led to a small bedroom. Jack and Nick moved Mac onto the bed. Mac's eyes snapped open wide as plates. He coughed and curled into a ball. Jack knelt in front of Mac and ran his fingers through the kid's hair wincing at the heat starting to seep through the outdoor's chill. Mac gasped and clung to Jack's arm. Jack rubbed Mac's arm gently.

"We're ok, bud." Jack hoped he was telling the truth. Ernie dragged Nick out of the room and started hissing orders in the same language as Nellie's family. Jack felt his hackles rise. The place didn't inspire good feelings. Rows of dried plants and herbs and rows of animal skins, skulls, and things in jars ranging from a giant black scarab to tiny eyeballs floating in yellow Jell-O covered every inch of wall space.

"Jack." Jack turned back to Mac and smiled. Mac's blue eyes were hazy with pain but calm as they studied Jack.

"Hey, kiddo how do you feel?" Mac grimaced and coughed. Jack wiped the froth from his mouth. Mac seemed to be coughing up less blood. Jack hoped like hell that was a good thing.

"What's wrong?" Mac whispered his eyes were roving the room with curiosity, "looks like we're in a witches house." Jack breathed out with relief at the quirked corners of Mac's mouth. "One with electricity?"

"Yeah, these mountains are freaky dude. This guy served in 'Nam and grows some pakalolo in the backyard. He's a...somebody of Nellie's." Mac raised an eyebrow not missing the razor's edge that came into Jack's voice.

"Nellie?" Mac asked frowning. Jack's worry returned.

"Yeah, girl that faced off with me against the choppers down the mountain?" Mac nodded his eyes heavy. Jack sighed. "You get some rest, brother. I'll see what's going on." Mac's head fell to the side. Jack glanced around the room and spotted a stack of old quilts under the skeleton of a baby alligator. Jack pulled a couple from the bottom of the pile. He put one under Mac's head and the other over his partner.

Jack searched the room for a weapon. He found a thick wooden paddle behind the door. He slid it under Mac's bed and stepped from the room. Jack grinned as he passed a small but blessedly normal bathroom. There were two other bedrooms, one contained only a king sized bed the other a bed piled to the ceiling with boxes and junk. Jack made his way to the living room. His eyes raised. It was a combination living room and kitchen. The center was a firepit made of stones fitted together so tightly there was no need for mortar or cement. Bookshelves every wall. The kitchen looked similar to the room Mac was in, only with food on the shelves.

Nick knelt beside the firepit glaring at the flames as if he were trying to freeze them. He glanced up at Jack. Jack was surprised. In the bright overhead lights, he looked younger than Jack guessed, barely past his teens.

"Where's Nellie?" Jack asked softly leaning closer to the fire. He finally felt the chill in his bones ease.

"He took her to the wives' house." Nick spat the words out as if he were chewing gristle. Jack frowned.

"Wives as in plural?" Nick nodded.

"He has seven, Nellie's the youngest. They've been married since she was 11." Jack leaned back hissing in surprise.

"11? That's fucking insane!" Jack stood up and paced. His hands squeezed into fists. She'd escaped this monster, and he'd brought her right back. Jack growled.

"Where are they?" Nick looked up and shook his head.

"The wives live in lean-tos about a quarter of a mile back in the woods. One is a doctor, and I think another is a nurse. Nellie promised to bring them back. She's also bringing clean clothes and meat for the fire." Jack grimaced at the meat not sure he'd ever see steak in the same way again.

"This nutbar's ok with all this?" Nick huffed and stood up. He wobbled between feet as if he didn't know which direction to pace.

"He's grateful to us for bringing his wife back." Nick looked sick. Jack put a hand on Nick's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, bud. If I'd known…" Nick shook his head and took a deep breath.

"No, Jack, I'm sorry. This is Mac's only chance. I just wish…" Nick looked through the kitchen to the back door and sighed.

"We'll be outta here first thing in the morning." Nick looked at Jack worried.

"Don't trust him, not for a second." Jack's eyes narrowed.

"Is Mac…"

"No, he'll help Mac, bringing us into his house it's a matter of pride, sort of an unspoken rule of hospitality. But he won't let Nellie leave, and I'm not leaving her here. If you knew…" Nick's eyes shined wet. Jack held up a hand.

"I get the idea." Nick leaned forward and grabbed the older man's forearm his nails digging in.

"No you don't," the kid hissed. "He's gonna sell us for more wives." Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Sell?" Nick sat back on the floor beside the fire. Jack perched on the edge of the firepit.

"It's the economy up here. The cannibals shoot down planes or capture hikers or anyone that comes here. They give them to the families in exchange for…" Nick looked away.

"For?"

"The old or feeble sometimes babies if there's too many." Jack's stomach churned. He'd been around the world but had never heard of anything so fucked up in his life. Jack waited crossing his arms across his chest. "The women and girls are folded into the families or sold to other traders on the mountains. Sometimes other girls from the outside are sold to the people up here." Jack got up and paced gritting his teeth in rage.

"Cannibals, trafficking, drugs, moonshine, pedophilia...What the fuck is the government doing about all this?" He growled. Nick shrugged.

"After too many of them disappeared, they stopped coming." Jack nodded and ran a hand through his hair. After hiking along the faint trails, Jack could understand how impossible it would be to police this area. Jack paused, fire in his eyes.

"I tell you this, kiddo. Before I leave this cesspit, I am going to do my best to clean out all these snakes." Nick looked up at him surprised and stood up eye to eye with Jack. He studied the older man wanting to believe him. Jack nodded. "You and Nellie are coming with us, no matter what, but we are doing some housekeeping before we leave." Nick grinned and took Jack's hand shaking it furiously unable to speak. Jack nodded. The back door opened before he could say anything.

Ernie walked in carrying a dead piglet. Jack had been raised on a ranch and in no way was squeamish, but somehow in Ernie's hands, it felt dirty as murder. Behind Ernie walked three women. Two were older than Nellie, probably Jack's age. Their plane faces were solid as stone; their eyes burned with cold fire behind the emotionless masks. Nellie was last in line. Her eyes were red, swollen, and never left the floor. She walked with a limp. Jack glared at Ernie with a silent promise of pain and death. Ernie didn't notice.

Nellie moved to the kitchen and began to pull out pans. Ernie brought in the pig slapping it on a stone counter. He paused to cup her head and leaned in close either kissing or whispering in her ear. Jack could see the girl shake. Nellie nodded. Ernie turned leaning over the fire stabbing it with a steel iron stoking it into a wild hot flame. Jack took a step forward ready to stick the poker up Uncle Ernie's creepy ass until it came out his eyes. Nellie's wide eyes met his, and she shook her head. He paused. She gave him a brave half-smile and mouthed the word "Mac." Jack bit his cheek and nodded giving Ernie a final glare. He glanced at Nellie giving her a silent promise. Nellie nodded then whirled back to chopping vegetables as Ernie stood up. He smiled at Jack and held out a hand. Jack almost bit his tongue in half. The man's grip was liquid and weak.

"I'm Ernie Raymond. You are Jack Dalton?" Jack nodded glad he didn't have to talk. He didn't trust himself to say anything nice. He wasn't as well put together as Mac, and it was taking all he had not to kill the mother where he stood.

"Connie and Ellen will help your friend. Feel free to use the bathroom. I have water that is pumped directly from a mountain stream; it's better than any bottled water I'd ever tasted." Again Jack nodded. Ernie yawned. He glanced at a wooden clock on the wall. "I have to harvest tonight so that I won't be back in until dawn." The hairs on Jack's neck stood on end. He wondered why Ernie was lying.

"Oh, we won't be in your hair any longer than we have to. I don't suppose you could do me a favor?" Jack asked his voice light and friendly. Ernie looked at him and nodded. "Well, my...son is very sick. I know your ladies are gonna patch him up, and I sure appreciate that it shows what a great guy you are…." taking us in and all." Jack gritted his teeth by managed to keep on his golly-gee happy face. As he'd hoped Ernie preened under the praise." But m'boy after being down in the cannibal hellhole...he's nervous around strange faces. I'm sure someone like you is smart enough to already pick up on that? Well, Nellie bless her soul helped him all the way back up here. Can she stay to watch over him? Just for tonight? I sure would appreciate your hospitality in this matter."

Ernie's eyes blazed with anger. His nose twitched as he swallowed an angry sneer. Jack's smile was a little more genuine. Mac would be proud of him. Jack had invoked the hidden rule of hospitality, making Nellie staying a matter of pride. Ernie still wasn't convinced. Jack decided to bring it home.

"I know you don't need a little thing like her to harvest your...crops, do you? It would be appreciated like more than you know." Ernie sniffed and nodded.

"Fine. Belle can stay here until I'm done tonight." Before Jack could gush his fake gratitude, Ernie turned and stalked out the back door slamming it behind him. Jack and the whole house breathed out in relief. Nellie ran up to Jack and threw her arms around him. Jack held her feeling her shake. She leaned back.

"Thank you!" Jack nodded looking down his face felt warm. Nellie embraced

Nick and they leaned in close murmuring to each other. Jack turned and went to Mac's room. The two women had him stripped, and the older woman was sewing up his shoulder. The younger one was giving the kid a bed bath. Mac laid stiffly, his eyes scrunched shut, his face red as a tomato. Jack chuckled. Mac looked over at him desperate pleading in his eyes.

"Having fun?" Jack asked. Mac gave Jack a full wattage glare. Jack laughed. "Well next time maybe you should duck the crossbow." Mac gritted his teeth and hissed in pain as the woman working his shoulder pulled on something. Jack almost felt sorry for teasing his partner, almost.

"Jack, do you have any idea what I can make a DVD player do when it plays...I don't know _Die Hard?_ " Jack grimaced.

"Now that's just cold, brother." Mac moaned his arms curling around his middle. He closed his eyes his forehead furrowed with pain.

"Remember that old man," Mac growled.


	11. Chapter 11

The house was quiet. Jack prowled the hallway and rooms looking for things to help them return to the cannibal village. The idea made him want to puke, but he couldn't think of any other plan. They hadn't found any other way to communicate. He held out a thin hope that maybe a search helicopter or satellite or something would see them at this house and get them. Jack knew he couldn't rely on it. Jack growled. In fact, if this fiasco had any guarantee it was that things could get worse. These fucking woods were cursed.

Jack stoked the fire and sat on the stone ledge around it. He'd gotten a couple of hours of restless sleep. Sleeping in Mac's room beside his bed had been both reassuring and nerve-wracking. Jack was thrilled that how his host had helped Mac; he knew his partner was still at risk of dying from a thousand complications. The visible wounds were sealed, but they had no idea if he was still bleeding inside. There was also Mac's fever to consider and the fact that they had half a mountain to go down back into the hands of people that would scare the crap out of Mad Max.

Jack had listened to Mac's coarse breathing. One of the wives, Connie Jack thought, had given Mac tea made from herbs. After Mac ate well then slept soundly. Jack snorted. He suspected that one of the herbs was some old-fashioned mary jane. A scuff in the wood behind him had him standing and whirling fist raised. Jack's mouth hung open in surprise. As if conjured by his musing, Mac stood behind him pale and shook wrapped in a blanket. Mac raised an eyebrow.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed!" Jack hissed in a whisper. Mac chuckled and closed his eyes swaying. Jack guided him to sit on the stone beside him. "What are you doing up, you should be sleeping." Mac let out a soft couch his face scrunching in pain. His lungs sounded like broken bagpipes. .

"I could ask you the same thing." Mac said his gaze steady as he raked Jack from head to toe.

"I'm not the one that got beat to hell and back."

"So that blood on your side was just for show?" Jack sighed. He'd thought Mac was too out of it to notice. He should have known better.

"I'm fine. We have to get out of here, what that bastard plans to do to Nellie…" Mac studied Jack as the older man stood up and began to pace. The rage seemed to pulse with the flames of the fire. Mac nodded. After the craziness in this forest, he could only imagine how terrible it would be for Nellie; then he multiplied that by a hundred.

"Where's Ernie now?" Mac asked wiping the sleep out of his eyes. Jack pointed a thumb over his shoulder to the back door.

"He said he'd be coming back by dawn, that's only a couple of hours from now. I figure we need to git outta here before then."

"I heard you checking out the house, anything?"

"We can take food and warm clothing, but I didn't see any weapons." Jack glanced at Mac and smiled. "Anything I could use for weapons." Mac smiled. He stood up. With Jack steadying him they walked the entire house.

Nellie and Nick woke up and joined them. Nellie began to gather food and water in sacks. Nick raided the herbs and medical supplies. Mac paused in the doorway of the junk room and frowned.

"What?"

"I wonder what that is?" Mac pointed to a small half door closed with a padlock. Jack smiled. He'd missed it. In his defense, it was hidden by a stack of boxes. Mac groaned, and his knees buckled. Jack caught him, and half carried him to a broken fold-down chair in the corner of the room. Jack kicked a stack of papers to the ground. After a long minute of speed wheezing Mac nodded and offered a weak smile. The kid rubbed his forehead.

"Sorry, just got a little woozy."

"I bet." Mac looked up at Jack and rolled his eyes.

"You can stop staring any time now." Mac regretted the snarky comment the minute he made it, knowing the lecture that was sure to follow. Sure enough, Jack crossed his arms and opened his mouth. Thankfully, Nellie walked in and stared at the two of them.

"The floodlights outside came on." Jack half turned.

"Floodlights? Does he normally turn them on?" Nellie shook her head.

"I've only seen him turn them on at night twice, both times...both times slaves were brought in and sold." Both men stared at the girl gobsmacked. Slavery? In America? In 2017?

"I really, really hate this place," Jack mumbled.

"No argument here." Mac swallowed and wobbled to his feet. Jack glared at him but didn't say anything. Mac plopped down in front of the door with a paper clip he'd pulled from one of the stacks of papers. He winced as he bent down and picked the lock. Nellie's eyes widened. Jack suspected the girl had never seen a person break into a lock before. He shook his head, after all the crap on this mountain that was what surprised her?

"We can use the distraction to escape," Jack said tugging on his lip thoughtfully.

"No," Mac said.

"Mac, we can't stop everything…"

"No, Jack we aren't leaving these people to be sold...like animals." The set of his jaw and power of his glare convinced Jack Mac meant what he said. Jack sighed. He also knew that tone of voice; Mac was going to do what he thought was right weather Jack was at his side or not.

"I'm kinda glad that's the plan," Jack admitted,"I felt like a slimy asshole for even thinking it." Jack watched the tension drain from his friend until Mac nodded and returned to the lock. A second later it opened with a click. Both men were not surprised to find a small crawlspace full of moonshine. Mac leaned back as 70 plus proof wafted into his face. He bent over coughing. Jack moved to his side. Mac waved him away. His eyes were watering; Mac asked Nellie to get Nick.

Jack and Nellie listened as the two babbled about chemicals and other nerd-speak neither understood. When they got to talking about disarticulated bones for shrapnel, Jack left them to it. Half an hour later they had seven bombs wrapped in metal cans ready for action. Jack's nose wrinkled. Knowing Mac, they would make a big bang, but they sure stank to high heaven. Nellie asked what was in them. The two men went off on a chemical blurb that left Nellie blank-eyed wishing she'd never brought it up. The peculiar honk of the shofar interrupted them. Mac frowned.

"Is that a shofar?" Jack rolled his eyes at the automatic fascination that perked up the younger man.

"Yeah, and it's not a good thing," Jack grumbled. Mac stood with the help of Nick and glanced out the window of the back door beside Jack both men careful not to be backlit. The shofar blew twice more. Ernie came out of the greenhouse and moved to the wooden lodge opening the door. He ducked in and light shone out the cracks and crevices between the bark. A group of people strode from the black woods. Mac could feel Jack growl like a dog about to attack. He put a hand on the older man's shoulder. Jack glanced at him, and Mac gave him a cautioning look. Jack scowled and nodded, but didn't relax. He'd had enough of running and hiding it was time to pay these goat-horn blowing assholes back. Mac smiled; he knew what his partner was probably thinking.

Four half-naked women were dragged behind three men. Jack's eyes narrowed. He leaned close to Mac's ear.

"The third one, that's Pa." Mac nodded automatically rubbing his throat. He could still feel the coarse fibers dig deep into his neck as he was dragged into the cannibal's village. Jack noticed the move and filed it away for later. The men laughed and greeted each other and stepped into the lodge. The men hooted and ran their hands along the women's bodies as they tied them to a steel pole beside the greenhouse. Another shofar blew, then another. Soon the whole forest was loud with the elephantine bellows. Jack shuddered.

"And I thought these woods couldn't get creepier." Mac nodded and tapped Jack on the shoulder and indicated they should step to the living room. Nellie and Nick were there holding onto two Santa-sized sacks full of supplies. Mac sat down. Jack could see the dampness of his forehead by the firelight. He automatically reached out a hand and glared at Mac. Mac's fever was worse. Mac rolled his eyes and leaned forward wheezing in air for a long minute.

"So what's the plan?" Jack asked. Mac bit his lip thinking.

"We have two objectives, getting the prisoners and getting the hell out of here." Jack silently added _kill some mountain trash on the way out._ "First thing we…" Mac was cut off by the sudden thump of boots. The four looked up to meet the surprised look of Ernie, Pa, and Hank. Both groups froze taking in the other for a score of heartbeats. Then things happened at the same time. 

"What the-" Ernie bellowed.

"This isn't-" Mac began.

"Pa, they're stealin'-" Hank shouted.

"Screw this!" Jack growled. He shoved Mac to the floor and launched himself at Ernie. His momentum pushed Ernie back into a shelf of jars. Jack winced as glass shattered and his back soaked with thick canning fluid and fruit. He heard Pa's blunderbuss fire and flinched half expecting buckshot to riddle his body. In that second of distraction, Ernie managed to twist from Jack's grip and shoved against Jack's sensitive side. Jack grunted and kicked landing a solid sidekick to Ernie's leg. Jack's eyes widened when this had no effect.

Jack ducked a swing from the gorilla's arms. He stepped in after Ernie's shoulder turned and thrust his elbow into the side of Ernie's neck with all of his weight behind it. Ernie grunted and staggered forward then recovered spun and smashed Jack's face with a massive fist. Jack fell dazed to his ass. Ernie grinned and leaned down to pick Jack up probably to strangle him. He looked like a strangler. Jack leaned back and lashed out with both boots. Jack hit Ernie's chest. Ernie stepped back and smiled rubbing his chest as if it was only a minor discomfort.

"Dammit, you're worse than Jabba the Hutt!" Jack muttered. He flipped to his feet and threw a side thrust kick to the outside of Ernie's right leg. This time Ernie yelled in pain. Jack was surprised by the man's speed. His eye barely saw peripheral movement then Ernie's massive hand reached up and grabbed Jack by the back his head. Ernie tried to slam the Delta into the broken shelf face first. Jack managed to brace himself with his hands. Broken glass dug into his palms like teeth gnawing away layers of flesh. Jack barely noticed it was taking all of his strength to not face plant into a mason jar of pickled eggs two inches from his face. Jack turned his face aside. He hated pickled eggs.

Jack pulled back his right-hand spinning, so his shoulder took out the eggs. Jack kept his momentum wrapping his arm around Ernie's left arm and shoved his whole weight against the elbow joint. No matter how strong a man is, joints are always breakable. Jack had a second to relish the moist snap and howl of pain before Ernie plowed his bear paw into the side of Jack's head dropping him half unconscious. Ernie followed Jack down his knee landing hard on Jack's abdomen. Jack tightened his stomach muscles and let out an ear-splitting yell to empty the air from his chest. This saved him from internal damage. Unfortunately, it also left him with no wind when Ernie reached down and grabbed Jack around the throat with his right hand.

Jack reached up scrambling to dig the fingers away from his flesh, but the man's grip was a clamp made from industrial steel. Jack tried to kick with his legs but didn't have any leverage to hurt the man kneeling on him. Jack tried to buck Ernie. Ernie lifted Jack's head by the throat then slammed him back against the floor. Everything was slowly graying out; Jack desperately scratched at the man's face. Ernie grinned and pressed harder. Jack swore he heard crunching in his throat. His arms flopped down and the circle of his vision narrowed. His heart screamed loud throbbing against the inside of his skull. Everything went black. Ten seconds later Jack opened his eyes and blinked surprised.

Ernie was fighting his strangling. The big man's back was arched, and his tongue stuck out as he tried to gurgle in air. He scratched at his throat with his one remaining mobile hand. Jack shimmied out from under the guy and grinned. Nellie had gone Princess Leia on his ass. She had her husband around his throat with his braid of hair. Nellie had a foot planted in between the man's shoulder blades and was heaving back with all she had in her. Her face was red and wet with sweat. Nellie gritted her teeth and kept up the pressure.

Ernie tried to stand and pull Nellie forward over his back. Jack stepped to the side and kicked at the man's left knee with all his power. The man gurgled louder and fell onto his stomach. Jack danced out of the way. Nellie rode him to the ground and started spewing a litany of swears and insults half in the strange mountain language the other half in English. Jack raised his eyebrow in admiration as she finished off her husband.

Mac wasn't surprised by Jack's yell and attack; he was surprised at the push that made him fall to the wooden floor. The world exploded into pain. Mac curled into a ball his arms over his abdomen. He tried to suck in air feeling suffocated by his fluid, heavy lungs. Hands grabbed him and helped him sit up. Mac fell forward coughing up a glob of frothy blood. When Mac could finally suck in air, he looked up and jumped back. Nick had dragged him to sitting then lunged in to tackle Pa. Nick managed to plow the older man into Hank. Pa's blunderbuss fired at the ceiling. Mac grimaced. That would bring in the others. He glanced over to see Jack holding his own against Ernie. Nellie was staring at the two men her face pale and frozen in an expression Mac didn't have time to decipher. Hank backed into the kitchen and knelt bringing a shotgun up aiming at Jack.

Mac's heart pounded, and he acted blindly. He stood ran two steps, pushed off the stone of the firepit and flew over the fire landing in an ungainly sprawl on top of Hank. Mac landed yelling in agony as he again fought for air. Hank rose to his knees and aimed the shotgun point blank at Mac. Mac kicked a second before the thin man pulled a trigger. Mac's ears rang. He felt splinters fly into the side of his face. He blinked and looked at Hank. Knocked off kilter Hank couldn't brace for the shotguns kick. The gun's butt slammed into the middle of his face. He shared a surprised look with Mac as his eyes crossed and he fell back blood spurting from his broken face. Mac managed to roll over and raise on his elbows panting and coughing. Everything sounded muffled. Mac gagged on more blood and shook his head trying to clear it.

Nick felt sick. Never in his life had he ever lifted a hand against anyone in anger. Nick was opposed to violence preferring to use his brain instead of brawn, but when he saw he and Mac were about to be blown away by Pa's blunderbuss he acted without thinking. He sprawled into Pa. The wiry old man was tough as corded wood. Nick swung at the man with all his desperation behind it. Nick cried out. Pa laughed unaffected. Pa grabbed Nick by the shoulder and threw double steam hammers into Nick's gut. Nick bent over losing his air. Tears ran down his face. Nick's head recoiled from a crushing blow to the left side of his head. Nick fell to his knees. He had a second to see the blood splashing on the floor under him before he was dragged to his feet by the scruff of his neck and beaten in the belly three times more then again across his face, this time the right side.

Nick's body went limp. Through blood, in his eyes and the fuzzy haze creeping across his vision, Nick saw Pa's fist drawn back, cocked like a gun ready to end him. Nick closed his eyes waiting.

"You son of a bitch!" Nellie roared over him. Nick opened his eyes in time to see Nellie smack the blunderbuss into Pa's head with all of her strength. Pa rolled away to his side. Before he could say a word Nellie slammed down into his head over and over. Nick flopped to the floorboards dazed. Everything spun around him. 

A lifetime of rage powered Nellie, she dropped her dead husband and whirled to see Pa beating Nick. The blunderbuss nudged her foot. She snatched it up and screaming brought it down on Pa's head. She slammed down again and again like a butter churner. Then hands grabbed her from behind. She dropped the blunderbuss and tried to kick and gouge at her attacker. She found herself in a solid but gentle bear hug.

"Easy girl, easy you're ok, it's over…" repeated softly against her head. She finally stopped, and her knees weakened as she bent wailing with gut crushing sobs. Strong arms gently lifted her back to standing and tucked her into a fatherly hug. Jack lightly rubbed the back of the girl's head and rocked her. He glanced over to Mac who had managed to wobble to his feet and leaned against the counter. The kid looked singed, and Jack thought a light breeze would knock him over. Nellie pulled away and wiped her face with her sleeve. Her body jerked back with stuttered hiccups. Jack put a comforting hand on her shoulder and bent until he was eye to eye with her.

"You ok, sweetheart?" Nellie nodded and turned to help the bloody unmoving Nick. Jack coughed and rubbed his neck. He stooped to pick up the shotgun and fished through Hank's pockets. Jack grimaced. Three reloads.

"I guessing they heard that?" Mac said. Jack didn't like the red stain along the kid's chin. Mac was coughing up blood again. Jack stepped to the back door and peeped out. About fifty men had spilled across the rear lawn. Most carried guns, none of them looked thrilled.

"I don't think they know where the ruckus came from," Jack glanced at Mac, "but it isn't going to take them long to figure it out." On cue, the men began to gather in a group and pointed. They formed a tight group and ran toward the house.

"Aw hell," Jack muttered as he snapped the recharged gun closed. He glanced over at Mac. "Here we go again." Mac offered a weak half-smile and nodded.


	12. Chapter 12

Fifteen men, Jack counted frowning. He took in their tactical situation in a heartbeat. Not good. Mac slumped to his knees. Jack glanced at him worried. Mac leaned his back against the counter. Mac's tired blue eyes met Jack's full of frustration and pain. Jack offered him what he hoped was an approximation of an encouraging smile. He glanced back. Nellie stood behind him, her eyes wide. She was pale and breathing fast but nodded at Jack. He nodded in return. Nick wiped at his bloody nose and looked like he was going to fall over. Jack knew the kid would give his all, that's all anyone could ask. Jack bit his lip and stepped away from the door. He pushed the shotgun into Nellie's hands. She took it absently preparing to fire.

"Space your shots and go for the center of the group." Jack hissed as he brushed past her he hesitated, "and…" Nellie glanced at Mac and managed a small smile.

"I will." Jack grinned and grabbed the dazed Nick by the shoulder pulling him into the living room.

"C'mon kid, time to teach you the fine art of kicking ass." Jack grabbed four of the bombs and shoved four into Nick's arms. Jack grabbed the box of waterproof matches Mac had left beside them on the table. Jack led the way sprinting out the front door. The shotgun bellowed loud in the night. Jack could hear a chorus of surprised and painful yells. Jack smiled. Good girl. He paused peeping around the corner of the house looking. The center of the attacker's grouping was scattered or fallen. Jack counted five that weren't dangers anymore, ten to go. The charge was broken. A third of the men stared at each other panicking. Jack glanced over at the greenhouse. No one guarded the prisoners. Jack ducked back and looked at Nick. The poor kid's eyes were almost swollen shut. Jack put a hand on his shoulder and waited until he was sure Nick was tracking.

"Go get the prisoners. Throw one of those bombs inside the greenhouse and another inside the lodge, got me?" Nick stared at Jack a long minute then nodded. He turned to shuffle to his task. Jack caught his arm and pulled him back, "Let me go first?" Nick nodded. Jack patted his back and stepped into the backyard. Jack instinctively stayed in the shadows. The shotgun fired again. Three more down. Nellie was doing a great job of persuading the remaining attackers to stay back.

Jack gritted his teeth. The older men were regrouping their force and reminding them they had weapons. The hillbillies knelt and began firing nonstop at the house. Jack closed his eyes a second sending up a prayer Mac and Nellie were hunkered down behind something solid. One of the outliers spotted Jack and yelled out an alarm. His voice was drowned out by the chorus of pistols and automatic fire. Jack lit a bomb.

"Hey, catch." He called throwing the can at the man. The guy automatically caught it and frowned. Jack fell flat to the ground and covered his ears. There wasn't much of a bang, but a flash of flame higher than the surrounding trees sent red shadows skittering across his retinas. Eight down seven to go. Jack bounced to his feet as bullets began to thud all around him. He hunched behind the fire and readied two more bombs. Jack ran out behind the group and lobbed two grenades into their midst. The men screamed and scattered. With two muffled bangs fire reached out like greedy hands and set all the men within twenty feet on fire. Jack smiled as a few outside of that range dropped screaming in pain. Disarticulated bones do make good shrapnel, who knew? Four down, three to go.

Jack lit another bomb preparing to lob it at a pair of men running away. Suddenly a massive weight slammed into his back taking him face down whooshing air out of his lungs. Jack looked at the bomb in panic. Mac had put on short fuses making them useful grenades. Jack pushed up to all fours. His attacker held on, Jack grunted and threw himself to the right and pushed up. He felt something give in his right shoulder. He ignored it twisting and landing on his back. The man froze stunned under him. Jack rolled to his feet and sprinted five steps away. He dropped flat covering his head. The bomb popped then fire flared. Jack gritted his teeth and tears leaked from his eyes. Fire raked across his back. Jack rolled over rocking back and forth several times. He had no idea if he was on fire or not. He didn't think he'd gotten more than second-degree burns, but the smell of burnt skin and hair nauseated him.

A boot lashed across his wounded side. Jack cried out in surprise and pain. He fought to take in air. The attacker kicked him in the head. Jack told his body to get up, to move but his body refused. He looked up at the guy and frowned. It was a skinny dude barely old enough to shave. His hair and half of his head looked charred.

"Shit." Jack grimaced. Was he really going to die at the hands of a pimply teenager? The kid took a step forward pulling out a .44 Magnum revolver and cocked it. Jack kicked the kid in the shin but didn't have an angle for much power. The kid didn't blink. Jack closed his eyes and turned away. A shotgun blast above his head deafened him. Jack looked up shocked. Nellie tossed the empty gun away and knelt beside Jack. Jack grinned and shook his head. Nellie helped him up. She was talking, but Jack could barely hear over the ringing in his ears.

"Darlin', it's gonna take a few minutes for my head to stop ringing." Nellie nodded and smiled. She pulled hair out of her face. The pair took in the devastation. Fifteen dead. Not bad, Jack thought. They both turned at two move explosions. Jack nodded, better late than never. Three women ran toward him and began to babble. Jack winced as sound finally popped through his veil of pain.

"Alright! Alright! Calm down. We gotta get outta here." Jack studied the

Three- one with Short dark hair named Cathy, one with short blond hair Anna, and one lithe African-American Dominique. They had scrapes and bruises but looked mostly intact, at least physically. Nick staggered into view holding a bomb across his chest. He looked more awake, but not much. Nellie went and ducked under his arm. Jack smiled. Young love. He looked up; the woods all around them echoed with the snorts of shofars. Jack had no idea how many hillbillies were in the woods, but they sounded like they were all on their way here.

"C'mon let's move!" They ransacked Ernie's house one last time. They managed to find warm clothes for the women and packed extra blankets and food and whatever they could find. Mac sagged against the counted working hard to breathe, his hand crossing his chest. Jack knelt beside him.

"Mac?" Mac's eyes slit open, and he gave Jack a blood-painted half smile.

"You...didn't die." Jack smiled back and put a hand softly on Mac's shoulder.

"You ain't getting rid of me that easily brother." Mac grabbed Jack's arm weakly.

"G...good." Mac coughed and blood splattered across Jack's face. Mac's head fell forward. Jack wiped at his face and leaned in closer giving the kid a gentle embrace.

"Now, I expect you to be just as stubborn, actually more so because I know what a pain in the ass you truly can be." Jack heard a soft chuckle in his ear followed by harsh coughing that seemed to rattle Mac's body as if he were a bag of glass. Jack winced. He turned looking up as Nellie knelt beside them. Her eyes were wet, but no tears fell. Nellie held out a pea-sized nut that was hollowed out and packed with different colored powder. Jack looked at the girl puzzled. She motioned at Mac.

"It'll help." Jack grinned.

"Nellie, I gotta tell ya if you were older and Nick weren't around…" Nellie smiled the first genuine smile Jack had seen from her and kissed him on his scruffy cheek. Dominique yelled from one of the back rooms. Nellie got up and left.

"F….flirty...old fart." Mac managed to wheeze in Jack's ear. Jack felt himself blush. He pulled back from Mac and gently laid him back against the counter. Mac's eyes closed against pain and dizziness.

"Here, chomp on this." Mac opened his eyes halfway managing a glare. Jack smiled and held the pill up to Mac's mouth, "Do you really want me to shove it in?" Mac opened his mouth. Jack put in the pill and waited. Mac's face screwed up at the bitter flavor. Jack put a hand to Mac's chin forcing him to chew and swallow. For a second, Mac's eyes widened with panic, "easy, easy...just swallow it down." Jack gently rubbed Mac's throat. Mac's Adam's apple bobbed, and he closed his eyes swallowing. He sucked in a wet breath and broke into another bloody fit of coughing. Jack gently rubbed Mac. He could physically feel his partner's pain.

"Ok, we're ready." Cathy came to say. Jack nodded and rubbed his face. His aches and pains begged him to stop, rest for about a year. Jack grunted and forced himself to his feet. He glanced over. Anna and Dominique stood on either end of the stretcher Jack had made. Anna sported a Browning Hi-power pistol in her belt. Dominique had a Kalashnikov over her shoulders. Cathy lifted a bundle four times the size of a backpack. She had a dagger in her boot. Nick stood holding another package the same size. He had a sack filled with the two remaining bombs around his waist. Jack smiled. It wasn't much of an army to take on a village of cannibals and who knew how many pissed off hillbillies, but it'd have to do. Nellie appeared at his elbow. He slid into a thick woolen jacket. It was itchy and stank of rotten vegetables. Jack didn't care. Nellie handed him a Colt Double Eagle. Jack scowled. He only had ten rounds.

"It's all I could find that wasn't empty or melted." Jack nodded. Nellie had a Sharps rifle held over her shoulder with a purple scarf. The shofars sounded again. Jack turned and gently lifted Mac wincing at the flare of agonies this caused especially in his right shoulder. It felt swollen but not broken. Mac moaned and his eyes slitted open then slid closed again. A cry of pain escaped as he bent and gently stretched Mac on the thick layer of furs and blankets. Jack closed his eyes and moved his shoulder to loosen it. Nellie bundled Mac under another pile leaving him tilted to help his breathing. Jack moved to carry half of the stretcher. Dominique got in his way and pushed him back with a hand on his chest. It was all Jack could do not instinctively to slash her throat. He forced himself to breath and swallow the automatic response. The woman smiled a dazzling smile.

"We got this." She said nodding at Anna who nodded. Jack stared at them both a long minute his mouth hanging open.

"Are you sure…?"

"This skinny white boy? Shit, my poodle weighs more than he does." Dominique said. Jack sighed and nodded. He'd have to remember to tell Mac that if they survived. The growing chorus of shofar honks spurred them out the door. Jack blinked at the diffuse pink sky surprised it was only now dawn. The last hour had felt like a hundred years. He shivered. The temperature had plummetted. Jack's breath steamed in front of his face. Nellie led with Nick walking behind her. Cathy and Dominique carried Mac and Jack brought up the rear.

Jack felt a breathless panic threaten to overcome his reasoning mind as they left the open lawn and again found himself in the never-ending clutches of the woods. Jack sucked in cold air and forced himself to focus. He had to admit even in the dim light poking through the canopy, it did look pretty, in a creepy I- wish -it -was -a- postcard sort of way. Frost frosted the black trunks making them look like bones broken and slammed into the ground. Snow began to fall half an hour later. The subdued cheeping of the birds told Jack he wasn't the only one surprised. He pulled the collar up on the back of his neck. The incessant shofar bellowing seemed to unify in a single chorus directly behind him. Jack growled. They were making the best time they could, but it wasn't going to be enough.

Jack was about to fall back and hold the hillbillies off when they heard a screech and shouts from in front of them.

"Son of a bitch!" Jack yelled. The cannibals had found their path and were closing in on their position.


	13. Chapter 13

The snow finally forced Jack to call a halt when they found a group of boulders they could make into a small shelter. Huddled under a thick quilt quickly becoming heavy with snow the small space felt like a refrigerator. Jack scraped out the snow and built a small fire out of pinecones. It took a while to get the damp sizzling pods to light, and they smoked more than he liked, but they were heated or at least an illusion of heat that made him think he was warm.

Anna pulled food out of the sacks and handed it and handed around a jug of some juice he'd never had before. It was on the bitter side. Jack sucked down his fair share. He leaned over Mac and gently pulled the layer of fur away from the kid's face. Jack was surprised to see Mac open his eyes and grin at him. His pupils were full, and his eyes were bloodshot. Mac went to sit up and giggled when he fell back down to the blanket. He held his shoulder with his left hand.

"You know that hurts." Mac giggled again. Jack raised an eyebrow at Nellie.

"Is he stoned?" Nellie shrugged. Jack shook his head and carefully helped Mac sit up. Mac leaned forward coughing up more blood. He wiped it on his pants making a face at Jack.

"That's disgusting. Where are we? Do we have any food, I'm starving!." Jack figured nothing could make the blonde much worse. He handed over a fist full of bread and a thick slab of pork. Mac's eyes widened, and he began to attack the food like a dog on a meaty T bone. His right shoulder didn't look any worse than it had before and it wasn't leaking through the stitches. The bruising around it had spread to cover more than half Mac's chest and most of his right arm. Jack frowned. Internal bleeding. Was that better than in his lungs? Of course, Mac's lungs could still be filling with fluid and having a puncture through one of the body's largest flat bones couldn't be good either.

"What's wrong?" Mac's slurred question brought Jack out of his worry. He sighed. Everyone around them except Nellie was curled up sleeping. Nellie leaned against the boulder eyes closed absently running her fingers through Nick's blood crusted dark hair.

"What's not?" Figuring a stoned Mac was better than no Mac Jack briefed his partner. Mac giggled.

"So we are actually between a rock and a hard place." Jack rubbed his face and forced himself to remain calm and remember most of his frustration was probably worry and exhaustion in disguise. Mac noticed his friend's bad mood and frowned trying to make his addled mind work.

"How long are we going to be staying here?"

"The storm probably won't let up for a few hours." Mac nodded.

"Why don't you sleep and I'll stay up thinking about our mess?" Jack shot Mac a glare. Mac looked back at him sternly or tried. An escaped giggle undermined any seriousness the blonde would have mustered. Jack sighed and nodded. He knew Mac wasn't going to be a reliable watchman, but they had to rest. Jack leaned back and closed his eyes. He figured he slept light enough he'd wake up if anyone came knocking.

"Hey, Jack?" Jack hummed not opening his eyes, "Are we going to be taking that narrow cliff trail?" Jack cracked his eyes open and glanced at Nellie. Nellie nodded sleepily.

"Yeah," Jack mumbled before he drifted into sleep. Mac smiled and leaned back letting out a deep breath. He coughed up more blood. Disgusting. He ran his hand along his chest. He knew he hurt like crazy but it was distant, not something that bothered him. He felt relaxed, loose, calm. He pondered their situation. Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right stuck in the middle with you. Wasn't that a song? He rubbed his forehead. Cannibals and hill folk. He needed a better name to call them, and hillbillies like Jack was using felt like he was insulting hillbillies. Moonshiners? Hornblowers? Assholes?

Mac closed his eyes drifting into a peaceful pink fog. He shook himself awake. Focus dammit. So they'd be on a snow-covered slippery, he assumed, hard to navigate narrow path with Moonhole Blowers (Mac liked that he decided. MBs he shortened it to with a giggle. Men in black? Could they be?) Mac shook his head absently chewing a dry hunk of bread. So MB's coming down from the mountain cannibals coming up. Terrible visibility. Mac saw three options. 1. They could stay where they were hiding. Never a good plan unless necessary. Besides their foes knew these woods better than they did and he guessed they were on the most traveled path leading down the mountain. Mac assumed there was a reason even people like Nelly rarely left the barely-there animal trails. Mac pinched his lip between his finger and thumb.

Ok, then 2. The tiny army could make a stand. Mac glanced at the others snoring in a pile. He inventoried their assets and liabilities. Not a good ratio. Also, they had no idea how many enemies were coming for them. The crazies in this forest seemed to grow out of the trees themselves. Mac giggled at that image and ran a hand across his forehead. His pain was becoming harder to ignore. He both welcomed it and dreaded it. He hated his foggy brain that sprung in more directions than a ground squirrel, but he knew the agony his body insisted on wrapping around itself was equally debilitating. Focus, he scolded himself.

Then there was option 3. Get out of the middle and let the two groups fight each other, or team up and hunt them together. Mac mentally crossed out the second scenario. Did it matter if 200 hundred people killed them versus 50? Mac was sure there was math in there somewhere, but his shoulder was distracting him. The next problem was how the hell to get out of the closing pincer. They could go up, climb trees. He knew he couldn't, but they could stash him somewhere, or Mac could sit on the trail and keep the bad guys at bay as long as he could. Let's face it, he told himself sadly, if he survived his injuries it'd be a miracle.

He didn't mind the sacrifice, but he knew Jack would flip out and drag him up the tree by his hair if he had too. Mac grimaced rubbing his head. That would hurt like hell. He shook his head. The problem with the trees was their limited exfil options. The cannibals have proven how tenacious they were. Mag guessed the prolonged hunt made them more insane if that was possible. It would take one looking up to see them, and the defenders would have nowhere to go. Cutting down the trees would be easy enough if not for the cannibals then for the MBs. One side of the trail was impassible a vertical stone wall ending in tightly packed probably impassable forest. That left down. Mac yawned mentally calculating the steepness of the descent, velocity, and labyrinth of trees waiting to splatter them at the bottom. Not good. Mac's eyes were heavy. Maybe they could...His head tilted forward and he snored sleeping deeply.

 _Avananche! Buried alive! Freezing to death..._ Jack bolted awake with a startled cry. He blinked spitting out snow. He shook himself off surprised to find his dream had sort of become reality. Over a foot of loose snow had fallen on the quilt. He had stretched out at the edge of their tiny shelter; when the weight of the gathered snow collapsed over him, it buried him in a frigid cocoon. He stood up and brushed himself off breathing hard. His breath puffed in the air, and he shivered.

Everything around him was a shade of white except the tall trees looming overhead. Black knuckles popped out of the snow masks plastered onto their bark. A wet finger ran down his spine. Sagging hostile ghost faces seemed to stare down, pointing at him, ready to grab him in their gnarly claws and shred him. They leaned forward whispering in the wind moaning through their creaking branches. Jack shook off the image and sighed. He'd been in this damned horror forest way too long. Jack winced as he moved his right shoulder. He ached deep in his bones; every muscle had stiffened. He felt made of brittle ice that would shatter if bent too far.

Jack closed his eyes and listened. He couldn't hear any shofars, but he listened to the sounds of bloodthirsty celebration that was too damn close. He ducked into the shelter and tapped the other's feet. They jerked awake and looked at him owlishly. The women who had pooled into a pile for heat tensed as their ordeal crept back into memory. Nellie looked perky and grinned at Jack. It was the only warmth around them. She shook Nick who groaned and sat up. Jack winced in sympathy. The kid's face looked like a rotten grape. His nose was crooked and double its regular size; his eyes peeked out of a blue-black raccoon mask.

Jack crept to Mac whose breathing was a constant moist wheeze. Blood had run down his chin from his mouth and nose. Jack didn't like the bluish tint his eggshell white skin.

"Hey, Mac. Mac?" Jack shook his hands and breathed on them to warm them up then gently put them on either side of Mac's face. Mac moaned and jerked awake. Jack gently raised Mac's face. "You in there, brother?" Mac squinted at him blinking slowly. Jack laughed, "Not stoned anymore?"

"No." Mac groaned. He pulled back from Jack's reddened hands and winced pulling the thick blankets over his shoulders. Mac wiped his mouth grimacing at the blood on his hands. He closed his eyes clutching his chest as he coughed. Jack put a hand on his partner's shoulder his eyes mirroring Mac's apparent agony. Mac opened his eyes then focused on Jack. The kid managed a tepid smile.

"I have an idea." Jack grinned. At the grim look in Mac's eyes, it melted into a scowl, "I'm not going to like this." Mac smirked.

"Probably not." Jack braced himself.

"OK, hit me."

"We're going over the cliff." Jack sucked in a deep breath then nodded.

"Ok, and how do you propose to do that?" Mac laid it out with excitement. No one in the tiny shelter shared his enthusiasm, "you do remember the cannibals that went splat against the trees, right?" Mac rolled his eyes and leaned back pain flooding his face. He paused until it lessened. Nellie knelt beside him and offered him another pot pod, or whatever the hell it was. Jack watched amused as Mac didn't hesitate to pop it into his mouth and chewed it like gum.

"Look, there is no guarantee this will even work, but what are the alternatives? Sold by the MBs? Eaten by the cannibals?" Jack blinked.

"MBs? What the hell are...never mind, I got your point." Jack grumbled. Mac leaned forward.

"Look skiers and bobsledders do things to decrease the drag of the snow and wind…"

"We want to go faster?" Anna asked frowning as she yanked a bite off the half-frozen bread.

"Of course not, but we can do the opposite things they do increase our drag and slow our descent."

"Enough to survive the fall?" Dominique muttered absently stabbing the snow. Mac shrugged and gasped leaning back. They could tell he was almost out of energy.

"Hopefully." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. They were quiet a beat. Jack sighed and eyed the others.

"Well let's go to it." Mac moaned but didn't wake up as they gently pulled the furs away from him. Nellie pulled on Nick's arm.

"Go sit with him; you can both use the body heat." Nick opened his mouth to protest. Nellie raised an eyebrow. Nick sighed and climbed under the covers pulling Mac close to him. Jack grinned.

"Good to learn that right away, buddy. The lady's always in charge." Jack chuckled making their tiny fire bigger. It did nothing to warm them up, but they were able to melt snow in one of Nellie's pans. Dominique cut strips of bark off the long branches that made Mac's litter. She put them into the boiling water until they floated with supple flexibility. These she handed to Anna and Cathy who used them to sew the skins tightly together. Both women's fingers bled from using the impromptu sewing needles Mac had made using syringe needles from Jack's belt pack. The skins fur side were soaked in water then left to freeze. These matted ice barbs on the underside of the stiff fur, Mac assured them, would slow their descent and provide more stability. Jack clomped back carrying two saplings about six feet long and three inches wide under one arm and a bundle of smaller freshly cut branches. He tossed the pile down and held his hands over the fire until they were warm.

"Mac?" He said kneeling in front of the two kids. Jack didn't like how hard he had to shake Mac's shoulder before his paper-thin eyelids opened. The blonde blinked at Jack confused then looked at Nick confused. His eyes bounced back and forth until he realized he snuggled against a not-Jack body. His face pinkened, and he weakly squirmed trying to pull away. Jack put a hand on his shoulder stopping what would be a very unwise movement. Mac glared at him but sank back against Nick too weak to do anything else. Jack half turned and pointed at the pile of wood he'd gathered, "ok brother, now what?" Mac shook his head and blinked. At least he didn't seem to be lost in waves of pain, or if he was, he didn't seem to care about it.

"You need to build a frame to attach the furs to with then make a sail boom and rudder...and attach it." Mac shook his head struggling to stay awake. He studied Jack not liking how red the man's face and hands were. Jack caught the look and rolled his eyes standing up picturing the final product.

"Wait a minute; you said sail and rudder?" Mac nodded with a smile. Jack nodded, "Damn this might just work." His eyes darkened with worry. The snow was letting up which meant their enemies would be closing in soon, very soon. He frowned.

"How are we going to attach the sail? The stringy bark stuff isn't going to hold…No, absolutely not!" Jack growled as he saw Mac push aside the blankets and tug at the elastic bandage holding his shoulder tight against his body. Mac glared at his partner as he shook.

"I...I...It's perfect." He stuttered through chattering teeth. Jack shook his head mumbling under his breath about stupid cliffs, stupid sleds, stupid sails, stupid cannibals, stupid hillbillies, stupid planes, stupid bosses, stupid snow, and really fucking stupid geniuses. He gently unwound the bandage from Mac who sagged forward his damp forehead against Jack's shoulder. The kid's hair was coarse with frozen sweat. Mac shivered, and his breath was warm puffs against Jack's ear.

"This is gonna suck, kiddo," Jack whispered pausing a minute to rest his cheek against Mac's head and a hand on the blonde's crown. Mac chuckled. Jack could feel warm liquid pour down his neck. He had no idea if it was his partner's spit or blood.

"Jack, it already sucks," Mac whispered. Jack sighed and took a breath. As quickly as he could, he pulled the dressing away from Mac's skin. Mac cried out a hand automatically grabbing the chest of Jack's coat. Jack grimaced and tossed aside the stiff bandage. The stitches of Mac's wound held, but the skin around it looked scoured by sandpaper. Nellie thrust a folded cotton dishtowel into Jack's hand. Jack gently placed it on Mac's shoulder. The front wound had been kept warm by Mac's huddle against Nick, but the back wound had frozen dry sticking to Mac's skin. Mac moaned wheezing in quick breaths.

"Sorry, sorry," Jack whispered wrapping Mac in a hug a long minute.

"Ow." Mac finally managed. Jack sighed with pride then pushed Mac away from him. Nellie helped Jack redress Mac's shoulder with strips cut from the sacks they used to haul everything. It didn't immobilize his shoulder but at least supported Mac's arm. Nellie bundled Mac under all the blankets and quilts they hadn't sacrificed for the makeshift sail sled. Mac's eyes sunk closed and he soon fell into unconsciousness. Jack scowled and looked at Nellie. She put a hand on his arm. Both knew it was a testament to Mac's stamina he'd survived this far; there were no guarantees how long he could keep going. Jack brushed hair out of the kid's face then gently covered his head with blankets allowing a small hole for Mac to breathe through.

Jack looked up as Nick slid to a stop panting. Nick winced as he straightened.

"Both groups are on the move, probably about half a mile away." Jack grimaced. He looked at Nellie.

"How far to the cliff's edge?" Nellie frowned.

"About a tenth of a mile, but it's a rough trail."

"Ok, let's speed this up then." Everyone worked faster. In another fifteen minutes, they had a passable toboggan with a sail. Jack frowned. He doubted it would last more than one fall down the cliff. Jack chuckled could any of them. Nellie handed the small sack of food and wooden cup to Cathy. The women gathered their weapons and nodded at Jack. Jack bent and lifted Mac. He bit down a cry of pain as he adjusted Mac in his arms. Nick moved closer making a motion to help carry Mac. Jack growled at him. Nick backed away looking hurt.

"You can't carry him the whole way, your shoulder…"

"Is fine. Let's move." Nick and Nellie shared a look then shrugged. Nellie led the way Cathy and Anna carrying the sled followed on her heels. Jack, Mac, and Dominique were in the center, and Nick brought up the rear carrying the Kalishnikov. He was jumpy and scared as hell, but Jack knew the kid would shoot anything that moved if he had to. Hitting it, well that was something altogether different.

The way was just as torturous as Nellie predicted. Jack pulled Mac in closer and tried to move carefully among the festering path of roots. It took a lot longer than he'd hoped the way made more treacherous by the slippery snow. They were all exhausted when they finally reached the small plateau they'd tossed the cannibals off of, two days ago? Jack grimaced and crouched resting Mac on his knee. His shoulder was on fire, his hands almost frozen stiff. He eyed the tree line below them and pointed.

"Over there looks like less underbrush." Nellie nodded and brushed her hair back.

"There's a river in that direction; I'm not sure how far away." Jack looked up as the forest echoed with the call of shofars. The yells from the cheering cannibals had been slowly drawing closer.

"Well, we'll worry about that if we don't die."

"Aren't you Mr. Happy-butt." Dominique chuckled. Jack smiled and raised an eyebrow. He'd been all over the world with the brightest and bravest; these women ranked among them.

"Ok, let's do this." They placed their sled on the ground over their scouted path. Jack was going to man the rudder when Mac mumbled that all the bigger sized people had to sit in front. He babbled about aerodynamics, drag then started to quote formulas and physicists. Jack took the first place grabbing a hand full of fir and wrapping it around the fat strut of the frame. With the frame on top of the fur, it hurt to sit on, Jack feared for his manhood but figured it was better crushed in a crash than served up on a platter. He sat with his legs out. Nick curled in against him. Mac was folded in with Nellie holding him up. Anna and Cathy scrunched in then Dominique sat facing backward her legs wrapped around the rudder holding the boom of the sail.

"Let's do this," Dominique yelled. Jack frowned at the excitement in her voice then grinned. They inched to the edge of the cliff like a caterpillar. Jack looked down and gulped. It was a steep slope.

"Remember what we practiced." He called, "Ok count off." One by one they all counted off except Mac who was softly murmuring nerd crap. The shofars sounded again, and the cacophony of cannibals were almost on them, "Go!" Jack screamed. The first few seconds they hung like velcro, then they were plummeting. Jack felt excitement flood him, he whooped. He could barely hear the others screaming in terror as the wind whipped past them. He saw the first tree.

"Right!" He screamed. Everyone leaned to the right, Dominique gritting her teeth and twisted pulling the sail into position. Immediately Jack yelled, "Left!" Everyone shifted in unison. They barely missed the trees leaving a wake of flying snow. Jack yelled directions three more times. His eyes widened. Ahead of them was a wall of boulders surrounded by a group of full pines.

"BAIL!" Jack suited word to action pulling his legs in and rolling into a ball covering his head with his arms. He tumbled like a bowling ball at light speed. He closed his eyes having no idea which way was up; then he slammed into stone. Jack opened his mouth to scream in agony, but blackness stole all sound.


	14. Chapter 14

_Cold. Pain-a lot of pain in the right knee. Water nearby. Someone's crying...meat cooking..._ Jack moaned and opened his eyes. He grimaced at the sun overhead. He hadn't seen it so long it felt alien, wrong. 

"How're you feeling?" A weak voice beside him asked. Jack winced turning his head. The right side of his head and neck felt like they'd slammed into a rock. Mac looked down at him. Jack was bundled up in blankets, laying on the cold wet ground with his head in Mac's lap. It might have been the light or Jack's wishful thinking, but the kid looked slightly less pale. His breathing still sounded terrible, but he didn't look like he was struggling or feeling any pain. The light blue was almost blocked out by black pupils.

"You stoned again, bud?" Mac smiled and caught himself just before he shrugged. Jack slowly pushed himself up moaning as the world became a twilt a whirl. His elbow bumped a sapling carved into the shape of a sturdy crutch. Jack winced as a lightning strike of pain burned across his right knee. He looked down surprised to see it splinted, wrapped and bloody. He looked at Mac.

" Nick made the crutch. I think you flattened your patella and sprained everything else in had a sliver of rock embedded." Mac offered. Jack grimaced and pushed himself up to sitting. After a minute, he worked his way to his feet where he stood swaying, his blood pooling way below his head. The crutch was a little too tall and sunk through the snow. Jack grunted pulling it up. He almost fell back onto his ass.

"Take it easy, big guy," Mac said reaching out with his left arm to steady Jack. Jack blinked and took in their surroundings. A small river trickled under icy overhanging branches weighed down by heavy melting snow. Behind them, a steep pile of boulders stood in front of the almost sheer cliff they'd fallen off/ slid down last night?

"Wow." Jack marveled.

"Yeah, we came down far, fast and hard." Jack caught a note of strain in Mac's voice. He looked at Mac who tipped his chin. Jack followed the gesture.

"Oh no." Jack whispered.

"Yeah, she ran into a tree and died on impact. Broken neck, Nellie says." Jac rubbed his hands over his face. He kept his free hand leaning on the rocks as he wobbled over to the others. Nick and Nellie crouched beside a fire where they were cooking some small animal and a pair of fish on sticks. Nellie looked up and offered Jack a watery smile. Jack nodded at her and kept walking. Anna and Dominique stood over a fresh grave black wrapped in white snow stained with boot prints. They looked up as Jack neared. Without saying a word, he hugged one then the other. They all stood side by side staring at the grave picturing the brave woman it held.

"I didn't know anything about her," Jack whispered.

"She said she was a cashier at the Piggly Wiggly; Cathy begged to join our

private flight so she could get to her brother's wedding," Anna said sniffing.

"Yeah, she never did shut up about that damned wedding! Now she…" Dominique broke off crying against Jack's shoulder. Jack took a deep breath and winced putting his weight on his left leg. Easing the pressure from his right armpit, he turned. Dominique and Anna helped him back to the others. Jack found a rock that came to his mid-thigh. He grunted as he sat on it. Nellie handed him a slab of meat on a stick. Jack took it and munched on it. He nodded it wasn't bad. The water from the river was clear and fresh. He felt refreshed. The meat was juicy and a little stringy. It tasted like a gamey pig. Jack guessed it was probably a rabbit or possum. The solemn group ate then sat in silence a long minute.

"Ok, we have to move. They may not know where we are, but it won't be too hard to guess where we're going. Nellie, how far to the village?" Nellie frowned in thought.

"I'd guess probably three miles downriver. The forest is thinner near the water, but it's pretty rocky." Of course, it is, Jack thought. He glanced at Mac who was unconscious. Jack ran a hand through his sparse hair trying to figure the best way to approach traveling with an unconscious person, a gimp, and four others. He looked at the river, it was too twisty and had too many rocks to build a raft. At least the sky was visible. Jack looked up. It was mostly a cloud with occasional windows of the sun, but he was free of the damned forest, for a while at least.

"When we came here, we carried Mac on blankets as a hammock and Nick carried you on his shoulders." Anna offered. Jack shot Nick a look. The younger man looked down his face pink. Jack smiled and nodded.

"Ok, we'll have to go with what we have. I guess it to be around noon. I'd like to make the outskirts of the village near sunset. That'll give us a chance to recce the village. We'll rest then attack it before dawn." He looked into everyone's eyes. They were exhausted beyond fear but still had the determination to get the hell out of this mess.

"How are we possibly going to take the village?" Cathy asked holding one arm with the other. Good question, Jack thought. Instead of giving in to doubts he grinned.

"I have a two-pronged plan." The others looked at him clinging to whatever hope he could offer, "step one, improvise. Step two, kill them all." The others managed weak grins. As rousing speeches it sucked, but it was all he had. They spent the next half hour taking inventory.

During their sledding misadventure, the Kalishnikov's barrel had gotten bent. Jack jacked the bullets from his pocket and slid them in his pocket. The others looked at him puzzled. He shot Mac a fond smile.

"You wouldn't believe what my boy can do with bullets." Nick who had somehow managed to keep their one remaining bomb safe, laughed.

"No, I think we would all believe it." They chuckled. Jack had lost the Colt, but he still had the belt pack. The glass of the emergency light shattered, but it still sent the signal. Jack looked up wishing with all his heart that there would be a plane or helicopter. There wasn't. It was just as well, the bloodthirsty bastards still had an armory that would shoot them down. It would save a lot of trouble if a helicopter preferably one with a few Stinger missiles found them. Jack sighed and rubbed his right shoulder. It hurt less but remained and stiff. Jack admitted it might hurt less because his knee hurt like hell. He shoved it all aside and continued the inventory.

Nellie still had her Sharps rifle, and Anna had the Browning Hi-power. One bomb, a handful of bullets, and two guns-Jack sighed and squared his shoulders refusing to give in to defeatism. The surest way to lose a fight was to enter it determined to lose. Nellie packed a small bundle of cooked fish and filled the wooden jug with water. She only had a little packet with two of her magic pot pods, or whatever. They layered all of the blankets on top of each other. Nick and Nellie gently lifted Mac onto the makeshift stretcher. Mac cried out in pain his eyes opening wide. He gasped for breath and rolled to his side choking out blood. Jack awkwardly fell to his right knee beside him.

Any improvement Jack had thought he'd seen was gone. Jack could see blood oozing from Mac's shoulder, and the bone in the back popped out. Not good. The blood Mac coughed up was less frothy, and darker. Not good.

"Brother?" Jack asked his tired face lined with worry until Mac rasped in a faint breath. Mac

looked up at Jack blood staining his chin and the blanket below his head. Jack wiped it with his thumb, rubbing his hand on his jeans. Mac's eyes were twin pools of misery, and Jack could tell he was having trouble focusing.

"Now you got the hardest job, stay breathing, ok? We haven't hauled you to hell and gone to lose you now, besides none of us know shit about rigging up a radio." Mac managed a ghost of a smile then closed his eyes sinking into unconsciousness. Nick helped Jack to his feet. Jack paused looking back at the lonely grave behind them.

"Should we say something?" Anna asked subdued. They were silent for a long awkward minute everyone waiting for someone else to say something. The soothing gurgle of the river and chattering of the birds filled the space. Without a word, they all returned to continue their trek. Nellie led the way. Nick and Dominique carried Mac and Jack brought up the rear.

To say it was a grueling trial was a gross understatement. Everyone was quickly wet with sweat. The snow was melting leaving a thick layer of mud. After the six slogged through that, there were fields of boulders. Some were one or two smaller stones; some were piles of rocks. Jack's three companions worked out a rotation to spell each other carrying Mac. Jack burned with frustration. Mac drifted in and out of awareness. He moaned with every jostle. A steady trickle of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth and nose. His cough was weakening. Watching his best friend die slowly in front of him, gave Jack motivation and allowed him to continue on despite the nagging agony in his shoulder and knee. No one wasted energy talking.

The sun was sinking into the black silhouette of the mountaintop behind them casting long shadows as the river dwindled then vanished underground. The terrain became less stony as the dark forest slowly reclaimed them. Back in the claustrophobic fist of the looming trees. Jack's heart thumped with a primal fear. The increasing sound of savage cannibals echoing through the palpable shadows that danced with menace. Nellie found a small clearing surrounded by pines drooping under patches of snow. Jack nodded in approval and sat beside Mac as the others cut down pine boughs and laid them on the muddy ground.

They shared the two fish and sips of water. The group pulled into a circle and huddled together. A wet dampness wound around them settling in their bones making them all feel sluggish and heavy. The fires from the village lit up like a nest of fireflies in the distance. Occasional echoes of their garbled language and laughter echoed across the darkness seemed to plunge out in all directions like a funhouse mirror in a dungeon. This was the only sign of life as the small group was plunged into complete black silence. They all stayed close enough to touch each other needing contact to remind them they were not abandoned. Exhaustion won. The group managed short, restless shifts

of sleeping.

Shadows, textures, and ghosts pressed on Jack trapping him in a box with his darkest thoughts. The only sound was Mac's creaking wet breathing, a prequel to all of Jack's nightmares. Jack closed his eyes trying to sleep, to push them away, but his imagination wouldn't quit. Jack reached out repeatedly checking the solidness of the blanketed familiar form of his partner. He was afraid this was the nightmare and when he woke up, Mac would be gone. Jack yawned. He glanced at the luminous hands of his watch and forced himself to take a long breath. The air was thick and icy and made Mac's skin feel frigid like a corpse. Jack shook his head only another hour; he prayed for some light that didn't involve the death sentence of cannibals.

Mac's arm suddenly grabbed Jack's arm in a death grip, Mac's breathing turned into a wordless gurgle.

"Mac? MAC!" Jack hissed and whirled bending over his friend. He could feel Mac's body thrash. Jack blindly reached for the kid's face. It was soaking with hot wetness pouring from his mouth. Jack gently rolled Mac onto his side. It didn't help. Jack felt panic sent his heart into a wild gallop.

"Blood's blocked his airway." Nellie said urgently from a mile across the small circle, "make him puke." Jack grimaced opening the kid's mouth and sticking his fingers as far down Mac's throat as he could. Mac's body jackknifed and Jack's hand was bathed in a hot mess. Jack didn't notice. Mac's hand twisted into the sleeve of Jack's coat. Jack clung to Mac's body begging it to take in air. Mac kept losing more and more blood with each violent wretch. Jack looked up as he felt movement. He smelled the faint whiff of flowers and herbs.

"Nellie, thank god!" Jack shouted. He knew he didn't shout, but in the quiet death of the night, his whisper echoed as if he'd screamed "fire!" in a shopping mall. Jack felt his wet hand pulled aside. He winced at the slurp it made. He wiped it on the blankets covering Mac. Jack's lungs fluttered like wings on a bee. "Nellie?" He didn't try to hide his terror. Nellie's voice was steady as a stone.

"I'm just wiping the blood out of his mouth. It started congealing in his throat...Do you still have a syringe?" Jack felt an hour of panic as he fumbled to find the belt pack then dug out an empty needless syringe and held it out with a shaking hand. Nellie waved her hand until she ran into his fist. Nellie groped the plastic from Jack's desperate grip. Jack heard rustling but had no idea what she was doing. Jack was going to scream...he was losing it…

"Here." Nellie took his outstretched hand and moved it to the side of Mac's face. Mac felt cold and dead. His hand flopped away from Jack's coat.

"No, no, no…" Jack's voice came out a tiny squeak; his face was wet.

"He's still with us, Jack. Hold open his jaw as far as you can...be careful not to break it." Jack pushed on the hinges of the kid's mandible. Mac's mouth opened. He was barely making noise now. Jack felt the hard plastic of the syringe and Nellie's blessedly warm tiny hands work around his as she drew up gore then moved the needle. He could hear the squish as she ejected fluid, then she was back drawing up more blood.

"Jack, breathe," Nellie said her voice above a whisper. Jack sucked in a breath and forced his lungs to keep working. He closed his eyes, willing Mac's to do the same. A century later Mac again heaved then took in a feeble gasp. Jack almost screamed. Nellie's warm hands grabbed Jack's wrists, "Let go, he's going to be alright...for now." Jack dropped his hands and curved over his chest caving with pain. A warm embrace engulfed Jack.

"Easy, kiddo, breathe. Our boy's still here. He's too stubborn to leave us in a pickle, right?" Jack started crying, he couldn't help himself. He was glad he couldn't see the thick blood on his hands. He could feel it greasy and thick as pudding. Dominique pulled him in closer and rocked him. Jack's tears and snot joined the mess on his hands. "Shhh, listen." The African-American woman said. Jack exhaled a long stuttering breath. Mac still wheezed, but it wasn't as bad as it was, thank god. Dominique gently pushed Jack toward Mac. Jack didn't need encouragement. He flopped down to the muddy pine behind Mac. Careful of the kid's broken shoulder, he pulled his brother close leaning his head against Mac's neck. Jack bit his lip stifling a cry of pain as Dominique reached down and straightened his right leg.

"Sorry." She whispered. Jack let out a deep breath.

"Thanks, ladies. If you weren't...hadn't…" Jack's voice quavered again. Dominique patted him on his hip.

"Get us the fuck outta here, and we'll call it even." Jack smiled and closed his eyes fatigue making them impossible to keep open.

"Deal." He murmured.

An eyeblink later he jerked awake every muscle ready for mortal combat.

"Jack." Mac wheezed. Jack jumped back realizing he'd given his partner a bear hug in his sleep. Jack pulled his hands back in horror.

"Mac!" Mac coughed, "Oh my god, kid, I'm…"

"Jack...shhh...you'll wake up...the whole ne...neigh...borhood." Mac panted. Jack winced and went to rub his face only to stop feeling the dry glove of mess on his hands. Mac sounded like he was trying to suck air in through a straw buried under a mile of broken glass.

"S...sorry, bud. You scared the crap out of me." Jack breathed. Mac gagged.

"I'm...k…" Mac's voice tapered off, "is it...all...black….o...or...me?"

"No it ain't you, this shit place has become the heart of darkness." Jack grinned as Mac managed a familiar groan even if it did end in a rolling cough. Jack opened his mouth to say something but Mac's body had relaxed into sleep. Jack rolled onto his back and checked his watch. He frowned unable to see the soft light beneath the dried gore. Jack pushed him up to sitting.

He silently counted the deep breathing, everyone accounted for and sleeping. Jack let loose a breath he hadn't known he'd sucked in. He scooted back until his hands ran into a pile of wet snow. Jack grabbed it up by the handfuls and washed off his hands as well as he could. He dried them on his jeans then looked at his watch. Another half an hour and the sun should be peeping over the horizon. He glanced up the bluff. The cannibals had gone quiet. Their savage celebration had quieted. Jack still heard their gibberish. Jack froze and strained his ears.

"Son of a bitch!" He swore. On Mac's other side he heard a rustle.

"What's wrong? Mac…?"

"No, listen." There was silence followed by a loud gasp.

"My god, how could they?" Jack sighed and ran his hands over his face shaking off sleep. From the sounds from above, it was apparent Nellie's people had joined forces with the flesh eaters in the village above. Not good. Jack forced his tired mind to wake up and shake off the despair.

"We threaten their way of life." He guessed.

"But to throw in with cannibals...it was bad enough they'd trade…" Jack wasn't surprised the girl had flipped into flat-out denial. There was only so much a rational mind could handle, and they all had reached their quotas a long time ago. He leaned forward until he found her thin arm. She jumped at his touch then put her hand over his.

"It doesn't change anything, darling. We're gonna get out of here as planned." He could almost see her smile.

"There's a plan?"

"Always." Jack chuckled. He moved his hand to Mac's side feeling the relief of the kid's breathing. Jack closed his eyes hating himself, "Nellie." His words evaporated.

"Jack? What's wrong?" Panic flared in her voice. Jack looked directly into the dark where he thought her face was.

"How much of those magic pot pods do you have left?"

"Three, why? What?"

"Listen to me, sweetheart." Jack took in a breath and forced himself to go on, "I need you to put it all in a medicine to give to Mac along with something to keep him alert and aware."

"I could probably use chickory, and I have…"

"Whatever you got Nelly. It has to keep him going without feeling any pain." There was a long minute of silence.

"Jack, that will…"

"I know that, Nellie." Jack's voice was short and harsh. He let out a long breath and rubbed his short hair, "I know, girl. I'm...We have no choice. We need him able to make that radio or we're all dead."

"Alright, Jack. At first light" Jack nodded forgetting the girl couldn't see him. He leaned his head on his hands fighting the urge to cry. How could Jack choose between Mac and all of their survival? He pushed the heels of his hands against his wet eyes. He laid a hand on the unmoving blond, his fingers automatically finding Mac's bangs and pulling them back from his damp skin. Mac turned into his touch. Jack bit his lip to keep from screaming. He made Mac a promise if what he did killed his best friend, Jack would stay and die at his side even if rescue somehow came. Jack knew there was no way he could live without Mac. Jack closed his eyes and bowed his head letting his silent tears flow.


	15. Chapter 15

Mac blinked at the dirt coughing. He drew a map of what he remembered of the cannibal's village in an icy patch of mud. The world swished around him. Jack laid a hand on his shoulder helping steady him.

"Hanging in there?" Mac turned and nodded not wanting to speak for fear of coughing. His shoulder's agony which had gotten worse since he'd bashed into a rock in the sled crash floated behind his awareness like a threatening fog. He felt dizzy and sick. His pulse was throbbing at light speed, and his brain was sluggish as a swamp.

Jack shot a look at Nellie. Mac frowned. The two had been sharing guilty looks since he'd woken up at the dark grey crack of dawn. Neither would meet his eyes for longer than a second or two. Even in his stupor it was easy to draw the line between his improvement and their guilt. He wondered what they had given him. Mac didn't ask because he suspected it was probably something that likely wouldn't end well for him. He could only imagine how hard a decision like that would be for his partner. Mac was grateful, at least he could save the others before he died. Jack knew Mac would have made the same decision in a heartbeat. He also knew that if it was just him and Jack, they would have done a Butch and Sundance, with Mac being Sundance of course. Mac looked down at his feet with a heavy heart. He glanced at Jack as the older man studied the scratchings he'd made. Mac was pretty sure he knew what Jack planned to do if Mac dropped dead. Mac coughed again tasting blood as he spat a glob onto the ground. He forced himself to stay upright. Mac would be damned if he would give Jack a reason to hurt himself or feel guilty for drugging Mac. He was going to survive dammit! Mac moaned as his broken chest was again tortured by another round of agony. Mac felt like he was breathing underwater and his throat hurt like hell. Mac shook his head trying to rein in his wondering brain. Focus. You got this. Mac just wished the pep talk didn't get lost in waves of agony as he again coughed up blood.

"Ok, here's what we're going to do," Jack announced looking up and meeting everyone's eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The woods were soggy. Branches hung like the frightened head of a whipped dog. The plops of thick numbing drops from the chilled remnants of melting snow acted as a counterpoint to birds reminding the grey foggy world dawn was close. Mac closed his eyes forcing his feet to move. He tried to shake off the thick sleeve of weariness infecting every muscle, every thought. Nellie led her sharps at the ready. The others kept her in sight but stayed far enough back they could duck for cover when she spotted a meandering patrol. Jack's suspicions proved to be true. Nellie's people had joined the cannibals.

Jack limped behind Nellie the hi power in his left fist, his right arm across Anna's shoulders, and his crutch tied to his back. Mac stumbled behind them dangling from Nick's shoulders the same way. Dominique followed carried the sack holding onto their last bomb and the knife in her belt. Other than the occasional cry of pain, tired breathing and rustle of foliage the group silently crept the bluff passing groups of guards. They were definitely outgunned. Every cannibal or MB that passed carried a weapon. Thankfully only half of them brought guns, although as Mac had learned, everything in their arsenal was deadly. Had they used the full armory in the cannibal village? Jack hoped not; he was counting on it for enough supply the tiny army could hold their position until exfil. The idea that they had emptied the armory become a nagging concern.

Mac looked up and smiled. He snapped his fingers. Jack and Nellie ducked. Mac communicated with Jack. The older man scowled and shook his head. Mac threw him a frustrated look that asked "do you have a better idea?" Jack growled, and the two made their way back to the group that formed around Mac and Nick. Mac quickly outlined his plan. The others looked skeptical but nodded. Jack traded Dominique his Hi-Power for the knife. Jack gave Mac a silent glare that told the kid he did not like this plan at all. Mac offered a weak smile quickly lost in a moist cough.

A group of five three cannibals and two MBs, one only five feet tall the other a hulking mammoth easily over six five crunched through the woods babbling loudly in their respective languages. The paused and shared a dumbfounded expression as they crept around a group of giant boulders and Mac sat panting leaning up against a terrified-looking Nick.

Surprise turned to grins as they strode forward weapons drawn. Mac glanced at Nick. He could feel the other man shaking with fear. Mac offered him an encouraging smile. Nick did not look comforted. The giant at the edge of their group suddenly fell to his knees. Jack grabbed the man by his greasy hair and slit his throat in less than a second. Jack cried out as he pivoted on his functioning leg and stabbed the small guy deep in the eye. The man went to scream; Jack slashed again almost decapitating the man.

Before the three cannibals could react, Nellie came running behind the one standing in the backslashing down on his neck the man fell face first into the mud. Nellie swung back then stomped down with the sharps butt. The man's neck snapped like a loud broken twig. The second cannibal whirled and backhanded Nellie who fell to the ground with a soft cry.

Jack lunged forward with his crutch catching the man in the center of his chest before the man could shoot the girl who was staggering to her feet blood running down her chin. Mac dug his fingers into Nick's arm forcing the man to stay with him. Jack limped forward two steps then swung his crutch like a golf club catching the man in the face. Jack hopped and spun in midair landing on the guy's chest with all his weight. The cannibals body crunched, and he died with a final bloody wheeze. The last cannibal's eyes were wide as plates as he turned to run and started to scream a warning. Dominique rammed the hi-power deep in the man's round stomach and pulled the trigger. Before the man could cry in pain, she slammed the pistol across the side of his head. The man moaned still trying to rise.

"Oh just die already, dirtbag," Dominique growled stomping her boot across the man's throat. He did. Everyone froze studying the community above them. To the group, the gunshot echoed like thunder, but the man's bulk muffled the sound enough there wasn't any reaction from the village. Dominique and Anna bent down and hauled Jack to his feet. Mac didn't like how pale the older man was. Jack grinned at Dominique.

"Dirtbag?" Dominique grinned and shrugged. Jack chuckled, "Classic." The team raided the men for weapons. Jack smiled taking a new Kalishnikov. He ejected the magazine and filled the clip with the loose bullets he'd kept. The clip was full with two rounds left over. Dominique did the same with the Browning pulling shots from a rusted Luger. Anna gathered a machete and crossed bow with five bolts. These she handed to Nick with a smile. Nick swallowed. The kid looked like he was going to puke. The other two men had been armed only with knives one having a giant pickax. Jack shook his head. Amateurs.

Mac eyed the unwieldy tool with a smile Jack knew too well.

"Well? What's your idea?" He said an eyebrow raised. Mac bent over in a long, painful run of gagging. He coughed up a thick puddle of blood. Mac closed his eyes and wiped his mouth gathering himself. Slowly he told him his idea. The group crept to the edge of the forest, staying deep enough in the thick underbrush invisible to the casual villager. Jack looked at Nellie a worried look on his face.

"Are you ok with this?" Nellie offered a grim smile and nodded. She skinned out of her clothes and into those of the small man. She wrinkled her nose and rolled up the sleeves. The pants were too short. Mac finished attaching the pickax to branches woven together from two saplings side by side His head dipped, and his knees buckled. Nellie and Jack shared a worried glance as Jack limped to his brother. Mac shook his head and managed to straighten through sheer force of will. He blinked at Jack and nodded. Jack squeezed Mac's shoulder, and they shared a silent look that said all they had to say.

"Nellie, you get over there drop the bomb then come join us, got it?" Nellie nodded. She kissed the pale Nick on the cheek and whispered something in his ear. It must have been something good because the kid turned red as a tomato. Nellie waved at the others and vanished into the woods. Jack missed her immediately. He hadn't realized how much he'd come to rely on her, "Ok, Dominique you go with Mac and Nick and get them to the gun shack. Anna, you use that sharps for overwatch...that means…"

"Sniper got it...I'm not a very good shot." Jack smiled at the nervous blond.

"You just gotta make them duck, darling." Jack eyed the contraption Mac had made and glanced at his partner. Mac gave him a shrug which almost doubled him over with pain. He winced in sympathy, "Ok, let's go raise some hell on Nellie's mark." Everyone nodded with part determination and desperation.

"For Cathy." Anna murmured. Everyone nodded then scattered. Jack crouched. Dominique crept for an untrained soldier, but Jack inwardly winced at the noise the trio made as they shuffled toward the back of the village with the best speed they could muster. Jack pulled the last waterproof match out of his belt pack. He absently ran his thumb along its smooth wood every muscle tense, eyes and ears straining for any sign of alarm. Jack heard a rustle behind him and turned in time for a crushing weight to hurl him through the air. He flopped onto his back looking up at a man who had the perfect wrestler's body. A real wrestler's body, not one of the over-muscled wrestlers who fight for sport.

Jack arched his body and cried out as his knee bent snapping the makeshift brace. He barely kept from screaming. Everything became wavy on the edges of his sight. He shook his head and focused on his opponent. The man held a blood-tinged cleaver in one hand and half of a human ribcage with the meat still on it in the other. Jack grimaced taking in the man's leather apron and blood splattered bare skin. This must be the butcher. The man raised the cleaver aiming for Jack's broken leg.

Jack couldn't move his leg, it dragged behind him bent in a decidedly unnatural angle. Jack's crutch had been resting on the side of the tree beside the pick ax sling, or whatever. Too far to do him any good. Desperation called for desperate moves. Jack yanked out his knife and spun on his butt managing a crude breakdancing move he hadn't done since it was new. His body reminded him why 40 somethings didn't dance like that anymore. Jack slashed up hitting the butcher in the wrist as it fell towards him. The man grunted and stepped back barely noticing the thick slice. Jack didn't wait. He leaned forward and grabbed the man's ankle. The man shouted in anger and moved to stomp Jack's throat. Jack was ready. He caught the mans foot and slashed his Achilles tendon. The butcher dropped his side of ribs and screamed falling on his ass. The shout drew the attention of Jack's enemies. Jack could hear all of villagers and guests begin to buzz with agitation like a nest of pissed off hornets.

"Shit!" Jack growled. He stabbed the man in the femoral artery and left him bleeding out. Jack dragged himself inch by cold, wet inch back to the tree and pulled himself up with the strength of his shoulders. He almost let go of the sound of an earthquake boom pulled attention from Jack. He reached into his pocket for the match and froze. No match. Shit. Jack desperately raked the ground with his eyes. It was half sunk in the muddy indent his body left when he'd fallen. Jack grabbed the crutch and hopped to the match. He fell forward as he reached for it landing on his useless leg. Jack rolled onto his back screaming. Everything went black. Jack woke up to the distant crackle of gunfire. Jack grabbed the match tucking it in his pocket with his shaking hand. His whole body felt like he was shaken in a blender. He wiped cold sweat off his face and pushed himself swaying to his feet. His mouth watered and his stomach threatened to rebel as he leaned heavily on his crutch. He managed to light the match and light a tiny cloth bag of gunpowder Mac had rigged to the pickax. Jack swiped the branches with his bloody knife.

The pickax flew true. Most of the huts were made from pieces of planes and other rubble. The ax knocked aside a long strip of corrugated tin and lodged in weathered wood. The bag sparked, and soon the timber was a firey torch. The trees above clinging together like fists trembled in a soft wind. Firebrands from the fire danced across the village. It worked better than Jack had hoped. Soon three huts were aflame.

The most extended sagging hut exploded knocking Jack into a hot corrugated wall. Evidently, the food shack was where they kept their moonshine. The cloying smoke circling under the canopy and scurrying of everyone in the village added to the building chaos. Jack swayed black creeping into his vision. He fell against a tree about to enter the circle at the heart of the village coughing. Jack tried to gather his frayed scraps of strength. He heard a footstep and whirled slashing with his knife. Nellie squawked and ducked. Jack stared at her blankly his dazed brain taking a minute to process.

"What are you doing here?" Jack's voice was harsher than he meant. Nellie ignored it and ducked under his arm. Jack moved his crutch to his other hand, and they gimped into the village. The haze of smoke left them choking but visibly hidden from view.

"You're late." She said grunting under his weight. Jack was going to snap out a snarky comment but chose instead to save his air. He doubled over coughing almost taking both of them to the ground. Jack managed to catch himself on his crutch, "Easy, kiddo I gotcha." Nellie said. Jack laughed drawing a glare from the girl.

"You've been hanging around me too long." He explained. She frowned obviously unsure if that was a good thing or bad thing. Jack closed his eyes fighting the upturn of his stomach. He bit his lip and focused on staying verticle and moving.

"We're almost there," Nellie said her voice tight with strain. They turned the corner of the butcher's hut a shadowy group of village defenders materialized in front of them as the swirling smoke lifted for a minute. Jack blinked trying to get his tired body to move. Nellie shoved him back against the shack and pulled the machete. Jack opened his mouth to protest, but a bullet rang off the corrugated metal less than an inch from his nose. Jack blinked going another shade pale. From the roof of a square shack two over from them, he heard Anna's apologetic yell.

"Dammit, sorry Jack!" Jack waved a hand leaning against the metal everything tilting in circles around him. He heard more gunfire and screams. He blinked the world back into focus and yelped in surprise. Less than six inches from his face a cannibal's head was pinned to the metal a crossbow bolt through his temple. Jack wrinkled his nose at the grizzly sight.

"C'mon." Jack looked over dazed to see Nick sling the crossbow back over his shoulder. Before Jack could squeak out a word, the kid bent and slung Jack over his shoulder. Jack closed his eyes against the blurry confusion and noise around him. Then he was laying on a dirty foul smelling floor. The disgusting air was free of smoke. Jack inhaled regaining his bearings.

"Jack?" A familiar voiced gasped. Jack turned his head and grinned. Mac sat leaning against the walls of the gun shack in a nest of wires pulled from the ham radio. Mac managed a weak smile letting out a small breath of relief. The blond's head dipped. Nick shook his shoulder. Mac drifted awake again, "beacon?" Mac whispered. Blood ran in a constant stream down his chin. It took a second for Jack to understand what Mac wanted. Jack pulled the broken flashlight from his belly pack. Nick grabbed it and leaned his ear close to Mac's mouth. He nodded and connected wires. Jack felt his heart lurch with pain. Mac was almost done. Tears nibbled his smoke-stung bloodshot eyes. He pushed it all aside. Focus. He had to get the others out; then he'd be with Mac. Mac whispered in Nick's ear.

"Mac says we need to find some way of cutting a hole in the canopy." Nick relayed. Right. Jack moaned as he sat up. He ignored the sideways tilt of his foot and tried to keep his leg from clenching against the mind-bending pain rattling his body. Nellie was getting good. She shot the Kalishnikov in short controlled bursts like she had seen Jack do. Dominique was firing gun after gun dry tossing it aside grabbing another one. The shack had a lot of arms and hardware, but it was going to be running low soon. Jack had no idea what holes they crawled out of, but the forest dwellers scurried around them like ants indifferently stepping over the growing pile of their fallen. Jack scanned the collection of weapons and grinned. Under a leaning row of spears and poles, a black steel tripod stuck out. Beside it was a full-sized Ma Deuce. .50cal full-sized machine gun. Jack dragged himself over and used his crutch to slide aside poles. Three dented square boxes full of shining strips of bullets. Jack whooped. It was ass-kicking time.

"Dominique, call Anna down!" Seconds later Anna ran breathlessly into their shelter ducking a hail of bullets following her. Dominique ducked out when the bullets paused and fired at the shooters. She ducked back looked at Jack.

"Jack, there's too many." Jack glanced at Mac who was taking harder shaking to wake up.

"How much longer?" He asked Nick. Nick looked up frowning in concentration as he twisted wires together.

"Hopefully…" Nick twisted the knob on the ham radio. It sputtered into life. They could hear the shrill beeping of the distress beacon. Jack grinned.

"Great job! Anna look after Mac, Nick help me up." Jack crawled over to an empty rain barrel and pushed it to the opening of the hut facing into the village. He ducked feeling the air of bullets over his head. Thankfully the bloodsuckers had the same ability to shoot as Anna. Nellie dipped in front of him and kept up a steady barrage keeping their enemy hunkered down.

Jack huffed pulling himself up to sit on the barrel and indicated the metal pieces of an M60 full sized machine gun. Jack turned and pointed to the tripod, weapon and ammo. Jack yelled encouragement as the younger man shoved the hundred pound weapon to the empty space in front of Jack. Jack checked the Deuce. He worked the slide. It dated from the Vietnam War, probably some vet's collectible. It wasn't in the best shape but would be serviceable. He bolted it to the tripod in seconds and told Nick how to feed the ammo and keep it from snarling. Finally, Jack snapped the muzzle around and aimed it at the trees above them. He pulled the butterfly triggers letting the old gun slam into action. The familiar heartbeat thrummed through his body. Excitement tamped down on pain. He yelled like a madman lost in his own _Apocalypse Now_ moment. He felt euphoria as he finally was able to kill this evil forest itself.

The giant parabellum snipped branches away from the trees better than a weed wacker in a wild lawn. The woods people hunkered down as the air filled with unstoppable death. They made the mistake of coming out from hiding when they realized Jack wasn't aiming at them. Many squished dead or laid trapped by falling branches. The smoke finally circled free, and Jack could see a growing circle of bright sunlight spill into the village cleansing as it moved. The terrible human infection in these woods was purged in waves.

Jack banged through all three cases of ammo. When the Ma Deuce clicked empty, the silence throbbed in his ears. Jack blinked at the remnants of the village. Nothing moved. Bodies, broken trees, and piles of debris were all that remained of the festering human sore. Jack took in a breath. Rationally he knew it still reeked, but he felt like it was a deep cleansing lung full of fresh sea air. He shared a grin with Nellie then his eyes rolled back and he fell off the barrel into nothingness.


	16. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

Jack was flying, looking down he could see the crystal blue sea poking through white fluffy clouds. He grinned twisting in midair gliding through the crisp mist then up to the warm sun. He stretched. This could go on forever. Freedom, weightlessness. Then he was falling. HIs grin didn't fade as he felt the wind push against him as the vast open land beneath called him with the song of a mother. His body automatically went into the crouch that the army pounded into him until it was as natural as walking. Jack reached up for the pull cord. With horror he realized he didn't have one, Jack's heart exploded into a wild gallop. The green trees were shadowed beasts reaching to grab him, pull him into the dark mouth of the empty grave-Jack covered his head with both arms and screamed…

"AAAARGHH!" Jack sucked in air, his body shaking. He patted his body and realized he was in bed, in a room, in a building-no forest.

"Jack, you ok?" Jack whirled to see Riley's wide, scared eyes staring at him. He took a long breath and brushed away cold sweat with a shaking hand.

"Riley," Jack breathed out letting his body relax. He was safe, no forest, no cannibals...no Mac. Riley knew that panicked look.

"Jack, he's ok. Just breathe a minute." Riley reached out and wrapped him in a hug. Jack smiled and returned it. He hadn't thought he'd ever see her again. He pulled back. Riley spun away hiding a sparkling of tears.

"Riley? Are you ok?" Jack said alarmed. He pulled back the blankets and froze gaping at his leg. It was swollen double it's normal size on either side of his knee. A metal brace ran from his ankle to the middle of his thigh over the bandage. Riley turned hearing his gasp. She put a hand on his shoulder smiling.

"It's gonna be ok, Jack. You just pulled every tendon, ligament or muscle there is on your knee, and they had to give you a new patella...knee cap." Jack grinned and wiggled his toes.

"I got a bionic knee!" Riley opened her mouth then closed it shaking her head.

"Well, enjoy it. When they take you off your morphine drip, you're gonna be feeling every stitch." Jack looked up at the bag over his bed and shot Riley a toothy smile.

"The good stuff! You know Riley," Jack leaned forward. Riley leaned forward, "If we gave that to everybody we would so have world peace!" Riley laughed and nodded.

"You might just be onto something there, Old Man."

"Don't tell Matty!" Jack hissed.

"Don't tell me what?" Jack jumped. That little woman shows up everywhere! Jack offered his best sweet smile.

"Nothing, little lady, how's my bitty boss?" Matty rolled her eyes and glanced at Riley.

"Morphine?" Riley laughed.

"I have got to talk to Doc Carl about that. Has he drunk texted yet?"

"He woke up a little while ago. What's up, Jack?" Jack was looking at his leg a frown on his face.

"What day is it? How long was I out? How long were we gone? Where's Mac? I have to get out of this...contraption.!" Jack growled. Riley stepped forward and pulled his hand off the handrail before he could pull himself out of his bed.

"Dalton lay down and relax or I'll tell Laura you want a bed bath!" Jack glared at her but laid back.

"You wouldn't!" Matty shot him a wicked grin with a raised eyebrow. Jack liked the gruff nurse, but Laura had a little too many amorous feelings toward Jack. He didn't want to get her hopes up then have to crush them. Matty stepped forward and put her small warm hands on Jack's her eyes softening.

"You've been gone from here two weeks." Jack raised his eyebrows.

"That's all?" Jack's turned away his eyes taking a haunted look. He felt like the dark forest had seeped into his bones, staining him permanently. Riley put her hand on his chest. He offered her a watery smile and put his hand over hers. He took a steadying breath and nodded at Matty to continue.

"Yeah, Nellie and Nick told us everything that happened." Matty's voice was gentle enough Jack had to clear his throat to keep from breaking down, "You got everyone home, Jack. And finished the mission." Matty's eyes shone with pride. Jack frowned.

"The mission?"

"Yeah, to retrieve Phoenix's asset from the plane." Matty sighed, "The flash drives, Jack. You got the flash drives."

"Oh. Huh." Jack fought to keep his eyes open. He'd forgotten about the flash drives; they didn't seem to matter, "And Mac?"

"You've been in and out for the past week…" Riley side stepped Jack's question. His eyes narrowed, and he stared at Matty. Matty grabbed Jack's hand her eyes serious. Jack shook his head.

"Matty...no…"

"Jack. Jack?"

"No, no, no…" Jack began to cry.

"JACK! He's alive, God!" Matty roared. Jack collapsed back letting out a deep breath. He wiped his face. Mac was alive. Jack hadn't killed him. When Jack could speak again, he turned to look at Matty.

"How bad?"

"It's not good. Mac was barely alive when you were life-lifted here. They drained his lungs; he lost almost a gallon of blood."

"WHAT?" Jack jolted up to sitting, "That's all the body has isn't it?"

"Damn near," Riley said softly. She grabbed Jack's hand. He wrung hers. She winced but didn't complain.

"He's got his tenth unit of RBCs hanging now, Jack breathe." Jack took in a shaky breath and laid back. His eyes were again dripping tears.

"I didn't kill him," Jack said closing his eyes fighting sobs. He looked at Matty. She frowned.

"No, you didn't. You did the impossible and brought all of them back, Jack."

"Is...is he going to be ok?" Jack's voice was small, tense with dread. Riley and Matty shared a worried glance. Riley squeezed his hand harder.

"We don't know, Jack. He's on a ventilator. They want his lungs to heal."

"They are still draining blood out," Riley added softly. Jack gaped. How much blood could one body lose? His eyes snapped back to Matty.

"He had surgery to fix his shoulder…" Matty looked down, and Jack could see her fight a shudder. Jack thought of how it looked after they'd bashed into the rocks. And Mac never complained? Jack sniffed his face wet with a sheen of tears. He blinked at Matty. She hesitated.

"Matty, please for God's sake…"

"He's been awake this whole time. They can't knock him out." Jack sat up in horror. Awake during surgery? With a vent? "He has something in his blood that counteracts sedatives."

"What about pain medicine." Riley and Matty shared another worried look. Jack's heart failed.

"All the narcotics." He guessed. Jack closed his eyes. No, he didn't kill his brother, only tortured him worse than anything he'd ever been through before. Jack began to shake, and the wall broke. Riley wrapped him in a hug pulling his head to his shoulder as he gave in to gut-busting tears.

Jack didn't remember falling asleep. He opened his eyes. It was night. Riley and Matty were gone. Nellie sat silently at his side flipping through a tablet. The light from videos flickered across her face. She smiled and flipped to another video. Jack smiled. She wore earbuds and looked like an average kid. When she smiled, she looked years younger than she had in the woods.

"Nellie?" Jack said. His voice was hoarse. She didn't respond. Jack realized she had earbuds tucked into her hair. He reached out and touched her shoulder. She lept up with half a scream her wild eyes looking around her with panic. Jack tugged on the wire popping the earpiece out, "Sorry kid, didn't mean to give you a heart attack." Nellie grinned dropping the tablet on the chair she'd been sitting. Jack rose up to meet her fierce hug.

"I was so worried!" Nellie said. When she stood back, she turned away wiping her face and trying to hide it. She cleared her throat and poured him a glass of water. It had a city-chlorine taste but was cold. Jack sucked two glasses down. Jack handed her the glass, raised the bed, and clicked on the lights over the bed. He squinted against the sudden brightness. Nellie clung to his hand with both of hers. Jack grunted sliding over. Nellie sat on the edge. She absently rubbed her thumbs across Jack's rough skin. Her fingers were cold.

"Have you seen, Mac?" He asked softly. She looked down as if Jack's hand was the most interesting thing in the world, "Hey, hey...kiddo, this ain't on you, ok." Nellie looked up. Her young eyes seemed ancient, "I made the decision, it was me. Ok?" Nellie's lip trembled, but she nodded. Jack frowned knowing it was going to take a lot more convincing before she believed it. He mentally put that on the back burner.

"So where is everyone?" Nellie smiled, the years falling off again.

"Nick and Bozer are with Mac. Riley and Matty went to get coffee, and said they'd be back in half an hour."

"And the ladies from our army?" Nellie's smile faded with sadness, "They went with rescue to bring Cathy's body back." She looked down. Jack squeezed her hand again. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Girl's a rock star. Jack thought, "After you passed out, a message came over the...Mac's thing. A bunch of helicopters landed with a lot of people wearing the same jackets with different letters." Nellie frowned.

"If they're from different agencies, why do they all have the same jackets?" Jack laughed.

"I have no idea, girl. Probably get them cheap somewhere." Nellie shrugged.

"Anyway, they took you and Mac right away. Nick and I told them everything about...well everything. Squads went out into the woods and cleaned up the bodies...you kept your promise." Nellie looked at Jack with an adoration that made the older man squirm.

"Nellie, you...you made it happen for all of us. We'd be dead if it weren't for you and Nick, I owe you for my life and m'boy." Jack's voice thickened. Nellie let Jack's hand go and busied herself with the pitcher pouring another glass of water for Jack. As Jack sipped, his IV ran dry. Jack glared at the obnoxious beep wishing he knew how to turn the stupid thing off before...too late. Laura strode in. Nellie stood up.

"I guess I better…" Jack grabbed her arm and yanked her back to the bed.

"Don't you dare!" He hissed. Nellie opened her mouth but closed it at the look of fear Jack threw to Laura. Nellie smiled. Jack shot her an evil glare. She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Well, Sweetie. You're finally awake." Laura changed out the IV then leaned over Jack with her stethoscope. Nellie's shoulders shook silently. Jack's face was beet red, and he stubbornly stared up at the ceiling tiles. Laura hummed and hmphed as she ran her stethoscope across his chest taking more time than was necessary, in Jack's opinion.

Finally, the older woman stood up and smiled at Jack, her eyes traveling his body.

"Your heartrate's a little high. Otherwise, you look just fine." Jack clenched his teeth at the kitten purr in the froglike voice. Laura patted him on his moveable leg, a little too high. Jack swallowed a squawk. Laura turned and left, an extra swing to her lips. Jack let out a deep breath. Nellie broke into full-bodied guffaws. Jack huffed and crossed his arms glaring at her. It only made her laugh more.

Nellie only started to get her giggles under control when Riley and Matty came in carrying three large coffees. They took one look at Jack's flustered face and shared a knowing look.

"Laura?" Matty asked. Nellie just nodded. All three women burst into belly laughs. Jack silently sliced the three of them apart with his glare.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

The next morning Jack raised holy hell until Sally finally threw up her hands and helped him go to ICU to see Mac. Jack cried out as his bad leg which stuck out in front of him in the wheelchair banged into the wall again.

"Dammit, Sally! Where the hell did you learn how to drive?" He didn't have to see her face to feel her amusement. Mac was right; the woman was evil.

"Who said I ever did?" Jack mumbled under his breath stopping and throwing his hands over his head letting out a squeal of alarm as they rounded another corner.

"Oh, chill Jack, sheesh," Sally said gently pulling Jack to the ICU room. He realized that she'd done every bump on purpose with enough force to scare him, but not enough to hurt him. Jack's face fell into a tragic mask. She was trying to distract him so he wouldn't freak out with impatience on the way up to see Mac. Jack looked up at her, noting how pale her face was, how dark the circles under her eyes were. Jack patted her hand. She gave him a sad smile and nodded. They shared a joint mission to keep Mac healthy.

Jack often wondered why Sally took such care of Mac. It wasn't for gratitude. Mac considered Sally an unnecessary evil. The battles they got into when both of their strong wills clashed were epic, from the sidelines. Jack thought Sally saw through Mac's surliness and saw what it was, fear. He shook his head as they neared Mac's room. Jack's heart tripped. He admitted he'd been trying to distract himself. He had to face Mac...and knowing it was his fault...Jack swallowed and braced himself. Sally eased him into the room.

Jack gasped. He felt Sally's warm hand on his shoulder. Mac was beyond pale and a little yellow around his eyes and nose. Jack knew that was from receiving so many transfusions. A tree of IV bags hung over his bed, Jack recognized blood and thought one might be concentrated nutrition. A thick white dressing circled his chest and a rubber hose stuck out of either side. Blood and fluids flowed into a box with numbers along its side.

Mac's neck, chest, right shoulder and right hand were immobilized in a heavy metal frame. Screws and bolts bristled through his skin like a porcupine's back. Sally had said they'd basically had to rebuild the kid's shoulder. Jack grimaced. All those screws and bolts holding his bones together without pain medicine? Jack bit his lip from screaming. This was worse than any torture he could imagine. There was nobody to scream a confession to so they'd stop hurting Mac, start hurting him instead. And he'd done this to his friend. Jack almost told Sally to take him back to his room, but a long time ago he'd made a scrawny kid a promise and he'd be damned if he'd abandon him now.

Mac's head was tilted to the side and the ventilator's rhythmic swish was loud in the otherwise silent room. Jack closed his eyes feeling another dagger stab his heart. Mac's good arm was tied down. Mac couldn't move. Jack scrubbed his face with his palm wiping away his wash of tears. He glanced up at Sally who shared a grim look with him. Her soft eyes asked a question. Jack nodded. She offered a gentle smile and parked him next to the bed where Mac could see him.

Mac's face was wet with tears. Mac scrunched his eyes shut, trying to block everything out. A constant drip of sweat ran from his damp hair his forehead wrinkled, the only sign of his real agony. Jack closed his eyes and bowed his head breathing through his mouth so he wouldn't start sobbing. Once he thought he had control he looked up.

"Hey, brother…" He started, his hoarse voice evaporating. Mac slowly opened his eyes turning with dread, bracing for more pain. Jack swallowed but couldn't spit out any more words. Mac blinked until he was able to bring Jack's face into focus. His eyes widened, and Jack could see his cheeks move around the tape holding the tube down his throat in place. Jack hoped it was a smile. Mac went to move his arm; a soft restraint limited its movement.. Mac tipped his head back shutting his eyes in frustration. Jack could see the muscles in his neck stiffen. The vent beeped.

"Hey, hey. Easy amigo. Give me a minute; I'll get you outta that restraint." Mac looked at him taking a deep breath. Jack could see tension leave his body. Jack rolled around the bed barely feeling the bolt of pain in his knee when he rammed it into the wall. He untied the restraint. Mac reached out and clung to Jack's wrist. Jack leaned forward and grabbed Mac's hand with both of his. He leaned down and put his forehead on all three. When he sat back up tears were flowing unchecked down his face.

Mac was studying him, his face just as wet. Jack swiped at his face and chuckled. Mac raised an eyebrow.

"When did we become girls?" Mac's abdomen bounced then he closed his eyes in pain. Jack realized Mac had laughed. After five cycles of the vent, Mac opened his eyes and looked at Jack studying him. Jack could easily read his partner's worry, "now stop that, you know I'm fine, I'm always fine." Mac rolled his eyes and made a motion with his free hand. Jack grinned, "That's why you're the genius!" Jack hit the call light. When Sally came to the door, Mac closed his eyes pretending to be asleep. Sally winked at Jack. Mac didn't fool her for a minute.

"What do you need?" She whispered. Jack grinned playing along. In a soft voice, he said Mac indicated he wanted to write something. Sally's eyes lit up with genuine happiness.

"Fantastic idea, Jack! I wonder why nobody thought of that before; I'll go get the paper." Sally turned and left. Mac opened his eyes and glared at Jack. Jack shrugged.

"What can I do, brother? You want me to tell her you're awake?" Mac's anger became a silent pleading. Both men knew that when Sally saw you awake and hurting she always ended up stabbing some part of your anatomy. Unfortunately, they had forgotten how silent and sneaky she could be.

"Ah, you're awake, great!" Jack jumped. Mac shot him a desperate look. Jack threw up his hands and rolled out of the way. Sure enough, under the clipboard and pad of paper, the red-head hid a loaded syringe. Jack winced as Sally jabbed it quickly in Mac's thigh. Mac closed his eyes, and the vent beeped as he held his breath lost in pain, "C'mon, buddy breathe." Jack said quietly. Sally pushed Jack near the bed again. Jack held Mac's arm and rubbed his forearm in a slow, gentle rhythm, "Easy, kiddo, it's ok. Just breathe." Mac's body relaxed by stages. He looked at Jack with relief and gratitude. Jack looked away burning with shame. Mac frowned and held out his hand.

Jack handed him a pen then held the clipboard while Mac scrawled. Mac's hand shook as he finished writing and he sank back exhausted. It took a minute for Jack to decipher the page of the scrawled mess.

 _It's ok, I know about the stuff Nellie gave me, I would have taken it anyway. Stop with the guilt. I am so glad to see you, this really sucks! I love you, brother._

Jack's shoulders sank. He felt like a steel beam had fallen from his back. He looked up to see Mac had fallen asleep. Jack set aside the paper and grabbed Mac's hand.

"I love you too, ol' son." He murmured. Jack laid his head on Mac's bed and breathed out. For the first time, he relaxed. They really were home. Later the rest of the team came in to find both men asleep and grinning as if they were both having the same happy dream.

"Let's let them sleep; they earned it." Matty murmured clicking off the light, shutting the door behind them.

Two weeks later Mac got off the vent. His eyes no longer held the shadows of panic. His breathing was still wet, but he was better than the docs thought he ever would be. Unfortunately, they said, he was not well enough to go home despite what he said. Another week passed. Jack was discharged. He went home for all of half an hour. He took a shower, got into old Jeans-which he had to cut a leg off of-and a loose T-Shirt. Two more weeks and the chest tubes came out, and Mac was healthy enough for the second of multiple surgeries to fix his shoulder. At least this time he was unconscious. When Jack asked about it, Mac said he didn't remember it. Jack didn't know if Mac was lying or not.

Matty offered Nick and Nellie jobs at Phoenix, both accepted. Nick worked in the lab with Bozer having some ideas for improving the latex blend Bozer used to make disguises. Nellie began training as a TAC team member. Jack carefully monitored her training, not giving her special treatment, well not too much...Luckily for Nellie, most of Jack's focus was on getting Mac home. After six weeks in the hospital, Mac finally crossed the threshold of his house leaning on Bozer's shoulder his shoulder and arm in a cast that completely immobilized them. Mac no longer had the neck brace, but he couldn't move his neck too far before it hurt like a firebrand jammed the bones against each other in his spine.

A steady stream of visitors and well-wishers passed through over the next few days. Nick and Nellie were bright with happiness. Nick was showing Nellie the "real" world and she was loving it. Dominique stopped by with a tall elegant man, both could have been cover models. She called him her "trophy" husband. Mac was thrilled to hear she'd found out that she was expecting a baby in a few months. Dominique asked what Mac's first name was. He suggested that they name it after Jack instead. With Jack energetically lobbying for the idea, the baby was saddled with the name Handsome Jack Russel. Jack declared it perfect and made himself Handsome's Godfather to no one's surprise. Anna brought her whole brood of kids, six from the late teens to a baby and her husband who shuffled behind her looking happy but lost. When Jack and Mac couldn't figure out why Riley pointed out that the woman might as well have been in prison. Riley had never seen the two men look more gob stopped before.

After two months, Jack and Mac were sitting out on the deck looking out at a glorious sunset. Since being back, the pair has taken every opportunity to stay outside in the bright sun as they could. The quiet between them was comfortable. A small fire crackled in the fire pit.

"It's good to be home." Mac sighed with contentment.

"Yep."

"You ok?"

"Mostly. Still not a fan of trees right now."

"I hear that. Or steak…" Both men shuddered.

"Are you ok?"

"Well, I only have another three surgeries to go, or so they say." Jack nodded hearing his friend's frustration, "Matty says you could go back to work." Mac mentioned it casually leaving the unspoken question hanging in the air.

"Yep, not gonna though." They were silent a long minute.

"Thanks, Jack. I'd go insane if I had to hang around here by myself." Mac admitted. Jack chuckled and looked at Mac through his yellow aviator shades.

"Well, we could always go hiking." Mac shot Jack a nasty look.

"Ha. Ha. You know I hate you, right?"

"Yep." Jack held out his fist, and Mac gave it a bump, "I hate you too, kiddo."

 ******* And there you have it, another adventure survived, mostly. Originally I meant this to be a fun romp but then cannibals came out of the woods, literally, and I sort of went all Deliverance. Sometimes you just gotta! LOL. As always, THANK YOU for reading and extra love to those who commented/ favorited/ followed, you guys are the best! I know I promised Corydon awhile ago, but it's still not quite cooked enough. I do have a story almost finished, and this one really is a fun romp with a healthy main course of hurt/ comfort. Expect to see multiple chapters posted later today or tomorrow. Thank you for those who send ideas. If I don't use them, it's more than likely because I don't think I could do them justice. Thanks for posting them and keep them coming. Peace and may a cannibal never invite you to dinner!**


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